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THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON, 

AGED TWELVE YEARS. 

iC He read much, and prof ted by w/tat he fead" 



CEBES, 



POEMS 



'BY 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON, 

Written between the Age of Seven and Thirteen; 



TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 



A SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR, 



BY 



A MEMBER OF THE 



BELFAST LITERARY SOCIETY. 



FIRST AMERICAN, FROM THE BELFAST EDITION. 



BROOKLYN: 

PRINTED BY THOMAS KIRK. 



1808, 



TK A~a> 3 



.IT 3 



86 * 



CONTENTS, 



«d short" Account of the Author ', ..*.... 3 

Verses to Dr. Crawford, i 35 

., on the Peace, * % * r 37 

on seeing a Picture of Mount Vesuvius, ..... 39 

on visiting the Mount at Dromore, .... * i * 40 

The Triumph of Commerce, 44 

Verses on « My Father's Birth-day" ......... 53 

Envy, a Fragment, ; . . 55 

Translation from Ovid's Metamorphoses, ....**. 61 

from Ovid's Tnstia, 63 

Address to Liberty, .68 

Verses on Mrs. Percy's firesent to the Dromore Yeo- 
manry, 69 

Invitation to John Rumney, esq. 71 

Verses on the Antrim Yeomanry, 73 

On seeing a Picture of Hafiz, painted by the Author's 
t 
Father, 75 

Answer to a Poem, entitled " Queen of the May," . . . 77 

To R. Anderson, esq. M. D. Edinburgh, 79 

Verses on the death of TV. Cunningham, 81 

Elegy on the Death of Lord Massareene, .83 

A 



CONTENTS. 



Verses on the Marchioness of Donegal? s return to BeU 

fast, .;..... 89 

Dolhfs Anger ; or the Poeto-magira-machia, 91 

The Garland of May, 97 

Verses suggested by the recollection of May, 1804, . . 99 

Address sfioken by the young Phenomenon, 101 

Verses written in a Temfile in Montalto Demesne, . . 10S 

• on the ruined monument of a Dog, .... 105 

To an English Lady, on her visiting Ireland, 10f 

To W. Hay ley, esq. on- reading his " Triumph of Mu- 
sic" 109 

A Paraphrase on the Tablet of Cedes, 115 

To the Rev. Dr. Bruce, on presenting him with a copy 

gf the Paraphrase on Cedes, .*..,..,,.. 135 



^0 







A SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. 



JL HE friends of the youthful author of this little vo- 
lume have been induced to publish it in order to preserve 
from oblivion, the proofs of a very uncommon preco- 
city of intellectual powers ; whether this be a sufficient 
reason may be known by perusing the book. The design 
at least has been encouraged and promoted by that re- 
gard for early genius which excited such a general curio- 
sity and demand for his infantine productions among the 
numerous friends and admirers of our young bard that 
they would not suffer them to remain concealed, but 
solicited their publication by a very liberal subscription* 

The following brief account of the child may be 
amusing to the readers of his poems, as it presents an au- 
thentic though slight detail of some circumstances in his 
life, not indeed marvellous but certainly very extraordi- 
nary. It is not likely that many incidents can occur in the 
life of any school-boy to render it generally interesting ? 



4 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



his time is so much occupied with the acquisition of useful 
knowledge in the usual routine of academical pursuits, 
and his natural character so liable to be moulded to a par- 
ticular form by necessary coercion, that little scope is af- 
forded for the developement of genius or the occurrence of 
uncommon events. Fond parents, indeed, are apt to dis- 
cover, or to think they discover, in their children, marks of 
rare talent and abilities, mistaking the natural progress of 
reason for the dawnings of superior intellect ; but how 
much soever so pardonable a partiality may induce them 
to over-rate the talents of their children, universal experi- 
ence justifies the observation, that very few children under 
the age of puberty have ever been qualified either by na- 
ture or education to become singularly eminent in any of 
the arts that are of advantage to society, or even in the ac- 
complishments that adorn human life. When any phce- 
nomenon of this kind has been exhibited to the world, it 
has invariably been found to be the result of peculiarity 
of external circumstances operating on a peculiar frame of 
mind ; of this a remarkable instance occurred lately in the 
history of the young Roscius.* Whether this be the case 
with regard to the youth who is the subject of this me- 
moir, is, after the statement of a few facts, left to the deter- 
mination of the reader. 



* Master W. H. W. Betty, whose genius as well as that of our 
young Poet was originally developed in the neighbourhood of 
Belfast. 



OF THE AUTHOR. 



Thomas Romney Robinson, the author of the fol- 
lowing poems, has not yet completed his thirteenth year. 
He was born on the 23d of April, 1793, in the parish 
of St. Amies, Dublin, being the eldest son of Mr. Robin- 
son, an eminent portrait painter. Shortly after the birth 
of his son, Mr. Robinson removed with his family to the- 
north of Ireland, where he lived a few years in the neigh- 
bourhood, of Dromore, afterwards at Lisburn, and at pre- 
sent he resides in Belfast. 

While yet in his nurse's arms there appeared to be 
something extraordinary in the tone of the infant's feelings 
and the structure of his nerves ; this appeared particularly 
in the effect of music on his animal frame, the notes of an 
ill-tuned instrument raising in him sensations of sickness 
and disgust, while harmonious sounds affected him with 
evident delight. 

When his son was about two years old, Mr. Robin- 
son having drawn two pictures from the Hermit of Wark- 
worth, was in the habit of reading aloud some pathetic pas- 
sages of that beautiful poem. The child used to listen with 
fixed attention, watch with anxiety the variations of ex- 
pression in his fathers countenance and shed tears as he 
observed him affected. Mr. Robinson conceived the at- 
tention of the infant an indication of something extraor- 
dinary, and delighted to put it to the trial ; so that the child 
would frequently sit with patience listening to the Hermit 
of Wark worth, it soothed his infant pains, and formed the 
principal source of his infant pleasures. From the frequent 
inspection of his favourite piece, he learned to read, which? 



A SHORT ACCOUNT 



as well as to recite several passages of the poem, he was 
able to do before he attained to the third year. 

As soon as he had learned to read, he devoured, with 
insatiable avidity, all the poetry he could meet with ; there 
seemed at that time to be something in the harmony of 
numbers congenial to his feelings, for he could not bear to 
read any thing but rhyme, till, in his fifth year, his father 
by showing him prints of animals gave him a taste for na- 
tural history. This opened a new field to his view and 
taught him that there are many pleasing and entertaining 
subjects in prose as well as poetry. Since that time h& 
has read almost every book that came in his way ; many, 
indeed, by hasty and desultory snatches, so that he has stored 
his memory with an extraordinary farrago of knowledge on 
an infinite variety of subjects, some of which are far be- 
yond the usual capacity and comprehension of children. 
Next to poetry, his favourite studies were Romances, the 
Arabian Nights Entertainments, and the Tales of the 
Troubadours ; Natural History, as descriptions of vol- 
canoes, 8cc. Natural Philosophy, and even Chemistry and 
Electricity. In short, whatever was striking and astonish- 
ing in nature, or vast and wonderful in imagination, capti- 
vated his infant mind, and all conduced to give his innate 
taste a still stronger bias for poetry. What perhaps might 
have increased this peculiar turn was the circumstances of 
Mr. Robinson's profession, as he had thus frequent opportu- 
nities of seeing many effusions of the pencil on pleasing sub- 
jects. It is not clearly recollected by his father what were 
the first poetical lispmgs of the child j several couplets and 



OF THE AUTHOR 



stanzas, however, composed by him in his fifth year ar& 
extant, being preserved with that parental pride for which; 
a fond father may be justly pardoned. 



Among his early productions the following are re« 
tnembered by his parents. 

* dolly's lament for the death of her lovekv 

My lover lies in yonder ground ; 

He loved me while his life did last, 
But now his form no more is found, 
( And I must grieve for what is past. 
I went among those mouldering stones 

To seek his urn of massy mould, 
Where many a beauteous virgin mourns 

Her doom by fate with mine enrolled. 
In some large rock I'll form my ceil, 

With many a dark and winding vault ; 
Description there shall sadly tell 

Why that lone solitude I sought. 
I'll bid adiew to every friend ; 

Among the gloomy shades I'll dwell, 
Where oft I'll mark the tall pines bend, 

Or torn up by the wild wind's swell. 



* Dolly was ayoung girl who lived in Mr. Robinson's. ...The 
poem inserted page 91, was written on a dispute between this girt 
and the young poet. 



S A SHORT ACCOUNT 



THE SEASONS. 

First Spring comes on, clothed in a pearly vest, 
When with new herbs and flowers the fields are drest; 
The plants revive, the snow does melt away, 
The ice dissolves by Phoebus' piercing ray. 
Flowers of all kinds now show their various dyes ; 
Some tinged with blue like to the cloudless skies ; 
Some marked with red, and some with purple glow, 
And some are white like to the wintry snow. 

Then Summer comes, when many a spring is dry, 
And Sirius' heat makes weary mortals sigh. 
Now plants shoot up, fed by the running stream, 
Their flowers expand, and then with seed they teem. 
To shun the heat we oft delighted rove 
In the cool covert of the gloomy grove ; 
And here we walk amidst the spreading trees 
And listen to the sadly murmuring breeze. 
There, a dark *glen with winding walks are seen, 
And sylvan vistas often intervene : 
There the tall obelisks at distance rise 
And end their pointed summits in the skies. 
The loud-toned cataract resounding deep 
With fury rushes down the rocky steep ; 
The river trembles to its utmost bound, 
The echoing vale returns the dying sound. 
There woods are seen with dark and dreadful shade, 
Where tangled trees o'erhang each mazy glade ; 



* St. Coleman's glen, near Dromore House... .The Bishop of 
Dromore has availed himself of all the advantages of nature and 
art to decorate this beautiful and rcmanlic spot. 



OF THE AUTHOR. 9 



Trees of all sorts, the fir, the pine here grow, 
The elm, the maple in the vale below ; 
The birch, the oak, the beech, and baleful yew 
Which still o'er graves its gloomy shadow threw 
The bending ash, the walnut hard and red, 
And bay that twines around the poet's head. 

Then Autumn comes, when trees their fruit do yield, 
And labourers go forth to reap the field 7 
The trees their leaves do cast, and then they fade, 
And then no more is found the cooling shade ; 
The flowers decay and then the seed does grow, 
And earth receives it as the winds do blow. 

Last, Winter comes with sad and pensive pace* 
And bleak and drear the furrows in his face. 
First rain does fall and then come frost and snow, 
While loud and strong the sullen wind does blow, 
Far off at sea a ship's white sails do wave 
Where a tall rock the furious surge does brave ; 
While thus it stands the seas begin to roll 
And nimble lightnings flash from pole to pole ; 
Deep-low'ring clouds the face of day o'crspread 
And all around a sudden darkness shed ; 
Fierce, from JLolian caves, the winds outfly, 
In whose recesses close immured they He ; 
The livid bolts divide the stormy waves, 
And scarce a ship the ocean's fury braves ; 
That vessel thrice ascended to the sky, 
Thrice, out of human sight, her streamers fly. 
Then whirling down it dashes on a rock, 
The waters fly, driven by the forceful shock 
The surge tumultuous rises to the sky, 
And in the fatal gulph do thousands die. 

Thus life in many a varied hue we see, 
Like to the growth of some tali stately tree, 
B 



10 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



Which feels the influence of th' inverted year, 

And drops from many a bough the dewy tear. 

First in the Spring the tender seed they sow, 

The plant spring's up, then to some height does grow ; 

Matured by Summer's heat, it rises tall, 

While, from its top, the blushing clusters fall. 

When Autumn comes, the leaves they die away, 

The flowers do droop, then wither and decay ; 

By Winter's freezing hand the tree is left 

With blighted branches, of their leaves bereft. 



The following verses by the elegant and ingenious 
Hafiz (T. Stott, esq. of Dromore) were written to the 
boy at this period. 

TO MASTER THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 

Since our tastes are so like one another, 

And our names happen too to agree, 
As my little poetical brother 

Thomas ! henceforth I'll look upon thee. 

When thy verses first met my inspection, 

So musical, flowing, and free, 
I felt a fraternal affection 

Spring up in my bosom for thee : 

That affection grows stronger and stronger 

The more of thy verses I see.... 
May thy talent improve thus the longer 

Time's current glides onward with thee. 

May a plant of such vigorous promise 

Become in due time a fair tree, 
And genius and virtue, my Thomas ! 

Bestow their full bounty on thee * 



OF THE AUTHOR* 11 

..i.::: :,.:■■■' . ■ . .... - ■■;- ■■■-■■■,■ . . - ■ ' z z 

Accept now this little effusion 

Springing out of pure friendship for thee, 
And when study permits the intrusion, 
Pray send such another to me, 

T. Stott. 

And the following little tribute was written pro- 
bably not long after. 

SONNET TO T. ROMNEY ROBINSON". 

Britain applauding oft has tuned the lyre 
To boast how Cowley, Pope and Milton sung, 

How early genius waked poetic fire 
And poured his sweetness on their infant tongue; 

A rising genius, such as they, has strung 
Lately the harp of youth so long resigned, 

We hear with rapture while a bard so young 
Awakes sweet numbers, elegant, refined ; 

Where polished art and fancy have combined 
To yield that charm the sacred Nine bestow ; 

What may we hope in future, since we find 

From childhood such enraptured numbers flow ? 

Nor is his care alone the Muses' page, 
His mind bold Archemedian arts engage. 
Dromore House. W. Cunningham. 

On Mr. Robinson's coming to the North of Ireland he 
attracted the notice, and was honoured with the friendship 
of the common patron of genius, Doctor Percy, Bishop of 
Dromore, a name dear to literature, religion and virtue, 
The kindness of this venerable Prelate to Mr. Robinson's- 



12 A SHORT ACCOUNT 

:•»■■ ■. ~ . ■ . V . 

family, and unwearied exertions to serve them, are but one 
out of innumerable instances of that benevolence and phi- 
lanthrophy by which his lordship's character is peculiarly 
distinguished. The frequent conversations of his lordship, 
abounding in elegant criticism and literary anecdote con- 
firmed the boy's poetical taste, and may be adduced as 
another very powerful concurrent cause of his strong at- 
tachment to the service of the Muses. 

While Mr. Robinson's family lived at Lisburn, the 
young poet was seized with a violent fever which attack- 
ed not only him but all the family at once. In this distress 
they were greatly indebted to the uncommon kindness, 
skill and humane attention of Doctor Crawford, an eminent 
physician in the North of Ireland, who not only gave 
the most unremitting attention to the father and mother, 
but even removed the boy to his own house that he 
iriight have him nursed under his immediate care. As soon 
as the boy recovered, he sent to this gentleman th : little 
effusion of gratitude" Verses to Dr. Crawford ;"... .inserted 
page 35, of this volume. 

About the end of the year 1801, Mr. Robinson with 
his family removed from *Lisburn to Belfast, and placed 
his son under the care of the Rev. Dr. Bruce, principal of 



• It ought not to be omitted that during his residence at 
Lisburn, our youngbard was under infinite obligation to the Rev. 
Dr. Cupples, the worthy rector, andhis ingenious son, for the first 
rudiments of his classical education, wherein they laid that foun- 
dation on which he afterwards made such improvements atBelfast. 



OF THE AUTHOR. IS 



the Academy, who as soon as he discovered the talents of 
the young poet, made him a voluntary offer of gratuitous 
education. In this seminary the usual number of students 
rates at about two hundred. In such a number, it is but fair- 
to conclude, what, indeed, is agreeable to the fact, that, 
amidst the infinite gradations of talent, there may be 
some of very superior capacity, and that young Robinson 
might have met there with competitors well qualified both 
by nature and education to dispute with him for the prizes 
of literary merit. It appears, however, from the minutes 
of the academy, that he carried off the premiums and cer- 
tificates universally, or at least when he at all exerted him- 
self, overtaking and striding over class after class till at 
length he accomplished, in the space of three years, 
a course of classical reading, which is generally esteemed 
a work of no small difficulty to complete in five. 

The following account of his academical career is 
extracted from the journal of the Belfast academy. 

Premiums adjudged to Thomas Romney Robinson, at the 
Belfast academy ; entered Feb. 2, 1802. 

MIDSUMMER. 

LATIN ") Left three classes behind and overtook a fourth, 

MYTHOLOGY. C with whom he was examined in Erasmus. 

CHRISTMAS. 

SACRED history.") Overtook another class in Ovid, from 

LATIN > whom he gained the premium, as well as 

&REEK J in the Greek grammar and sacred history. 



14 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



MIDSUMMER, 1803. 

LATIN , "i Overtook a class in Virgil, from whom lie 

ROMAN HISTORY, f gained the premium. 



CHRISTMAS. 



SACRED HISTORY.") 

civil history.... (Examined in Homeland was adjudged 

geeek I the first premium. 

LATIN 



"'J 

3 



MIDSUMMER, 1804. 
SACRED HISTORY. "\ 

civil HISTORY.... I Overtook the headclass,and was examin- 

MYTHOLOGY f ed with them in the whole of the 

logic { entrance course of Trinity College, 

CREEK I Dublin. 

LATIN J 

CHRISTMAS. 

LOGIC HISTORY MYTHOLOGY GREEK*... .LATIN. 

Soon after he entered the Belfast academy he was 
elected a member of the *" Society for mutual Improve- 
ment" instituted among the students of that Seminary. 
Nothing can more clearly evince the high estimation in 
which his talents were held among his fellow-students than 
his attaining to this honour at so early a period of life, be^ 

* It is not without a mingled sensation of pleasing recollection 
and present regret that the writer of this article contemplates the 
various fates of this little association of Friends, and how widely 
they have been dispersed ! Some of them are at the most distant 
regions of the globe, and several have, alas ! terminated their 
earthlv career. 



OF THE AUTHOR. 15 



ingthen only nine years of age. The essays he produced 
■according to the rules of the Society, were chiefly poetical ; 
one of them is preserved in the present collection, entitled 
-" The Triumph of Commerce" 

It is but justice to him, to observe that his gratitude 
to his teachers kept pace with the increase of his know* 
ledge. Of the truth of this observation, his verses intro- 
ducing his preceptor to Dr. Anderson, of Edinburgh, page 
79, and the poem, which, on leaving the academy, he ad* 
dressed to Dr. Bruce, page 135, are sufficient evidence. 

Though he devoted so much of his time to classical 
pursuits, he by no means relinquished his favourite study 
of Natural Philosophy ; on the contrary, his leisure hours 
were generally spentin making experiments in Mechanics, 
Chemistry, Galvanism* 8cc. What served to increase this 
taste in him was his attendance at a course of Lectures and 
Experiments in Natural Philosophy, delivered in Belfast, 
by the *Rev. W. H. Drummond. At these lectures, and 
the subsequent examinations, it was observed that young 
Robinson was not only attentive to the Experiments, but 
that he comprehended the more remote principles of 
Physics, and his answering sustained the character he had 
acquired in the academy. 

Another object which powerfully excited his curiosity 
was ship -building ; and that he might become acquainted 
with this useful art, he paid daily visits to the docks and 
yards of Mr. W. Ritchie, an eminent ship-builder who 



Author of the « Battle of Trafalgar.* 



16 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



had been invited over from Scotland by the merchants 
of Belfast. In the friendship of this gentleman he found 
a rich source of curious information, not only on the 
subject of ship -building, but he even patiently attended 
him and was not a little interested in the constructing of 
dry -decks, and reclaiming ground from the sea, in both 
of which Mr. Ritchie has been successfully, and usefully 
engaged. To Mr. Ritchie he addressed " The Triumph of 
Commerce" page 44 of this volume. 

Of his facility in composing verses, several extraor- 
dinary instances might be enumerated; the following how- 
ever seem to deserve particular notice.... 

While in his seventh year, as he was sauntering 
through Mr. Coulson's damask manufactory, at Lisburn, 
and satiating the greediness of curiosity in examining 
the machinery of that ingenious work, he was asked by 
Mr. Coulson's son, to make some verses on a calender 
which at the moment formed the object of his attention.... 
In the space of a few minutes he composed the following 
lines on this very unpromising subject.... 

Four rollers here of polished wood we view, 
Two different kinds, the sycamore and yew. 
Above, the screws, of iron made, are seen, 
And massy bars of metal come between ; 
They seem to keep the rollers firm and tight, 
Which by continual friction have grown bright. 
Beneath, a horizontal wheel is found, 
Turned by a horse, then the machine goes round. 

At another time being on a visit at Drcmore-Hous$ 



OF THE AUTHOR. 17 



in the year 1802, he there met with *Dr. Anderson of 
Edinburgh, who was delighted to observe the child's uncom- 
mon powers of mind, and to put his abilities to the test. 
This gentleman having one evening proposed as the sub- 
ject of a poem, a description of" The Mount" in the vi- 
cinity of Dromore, the boy produced the next morning the 
verses, page 40. ...He was at this time in his ninth year. 

In the year 1 804, Mr. Robinson went to Antrim-castle, 
being engaged to paint some portraits for the late Earl of 
Massareene. His lordship havingheard much of the young 
poet, requested that he might accompany his father : and it 
is not a little extraordinary that this eccentric nobleman, 
whom early misfortunes had contributed to render unso- 
cial and difficult of access,became strongly attached to the 
child ; so much as to interest himself anxiously, in giving 
him instructions on the subj ect of poetry, and improving 
his taste by selecting for him choice passages of the Italian 
and Spanish writersf... .During his visit at Antrim-castle, 

* The suffrage of Dr Anderson, to whom, as a critic and bi- 
ographer, the republic of letters is under everlasting* obligation, 
is of itself sufficient to recommend this little volume to the no- 
tice of the literary world. 

f His Lordship used to transcribe remarkable passages from 
Tasso, which he made young Robinson get by heart and recite. 
Of these scraps the present writer has seen some in Lord Mas- 
sareene's hand writing, particularly the following..., 
" Lampi, nel' fiammegiar ; 
M Nel rum ore, tuono ;'•..- 
" Fulmini, nel' ferir, 
" Le spade sono." 

C 



18 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



lord Massareene made an agreement with him, that at 
whatever time either should die, the survivor should write 
an elegy on the death of the deceased. This melancholy duty- 
he performed for his lordship not long after.. ..The elegy- 
is inserted in this volume, page 83, 

The same year he was deprived by death of anb" 
ther friend who had been united to him by affection, as well 
as similarity of taste, William Cunningham, the self-taught 
poet of Dromore. This young man, born in a very hum- 
ble situation of life, and without any of the advantages 
of education or polished society, had at a very early age 
written several poems of considerable merit,* and was 
therefore patronised by the Bishop of Dromore, who was 
never known to neglect any occasion of fostering youthful 
genius. His Lordship took him under his immediate pro- 
tection, had him instructed in the classics at the dioce- 
san school of Dromore, and afterwards recommended him 
as an assistant in the classical department at the Belfast 
academy. This situation he filled with considerable 
reputation till he was obliged to relinquish it on ac- 
count of ill health. He died of a consumption in Decem- 
ber 1804. His guileless simplicity of manners, inno- 
cence of heart, and purity of life, will long render his 
premature death a subject of melancholy recollection to 
the friends he had made by the early display of his genius. 
Young Robinson did not fail to express what his feelings 



• Particularly a poem on the death of the late Marquis of 
Downshire. 



OF THE AUTHOR. 19 



prompted on this mournful occasion. The death of his 
friend is touched upon in a manner that reflects honour 
both onhis head and heart, in the poems, pages 8 1 and 99. 

The poem, page 99, is entitled " Verses suggested 
by the recollection of May ^ 1804".. ..alluding to the follow- 
ing poem written at that time by W. Cunningham. 

THE QUEEN OF THE MAY, 1804 
From yonder arch refulgent shines 

The God that guides the golden day ; 
Maia benign a wreath entwines, 

To crown the lovely queen of May. 

See o'er the lawns the youth advance, 

Tripping gay in rural pride ! 
And jocund lead the frolic dance.... 
Blooming virgins by their sida. 

Sweetly the wanton zephyrs breathe... 

While from her lap the goddess fair 
Flings fragrant flowers, and holds the wreath 

Which soon some happy maid shall wear. 

Each swain with fond expectance burns 
To hear his favourite hailed the queen, 

In anxious doubt the goddess turns, 

Charmed with the nymphs that grace the green. 

Gay Bess might seem to win the pri^e, 

In her the rose and lilly strove ; 
And Margaret from her radiant eyes 

Darted soft lightning winged with love. 



20 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



But what avails the transient gleam 

That gay external charms can boast ! 
To day a face may angel seem, 
To morrow mourn that beauty lost* 

Is there a maid, whose feeling breast 
Heaves the soft sympathetic sigh ; 

Relieves the heart with cares opprest, 
While tears of pity dim her eye I 

Is there a maid, whose nobler soul 
Disdains the crouds that fashion leads, 

Who seeks content where streamlets roll, 
And wanders o'er th' enamelled meads ? 

Is there a maid, whom virtue warms, 
Free from the follies of the throng ; 

Whose sense, improved and heightened, charms* 
While sweetness dwells upon her tongue ? 

Is there a maid, whose polished mind 
Delights to cull the lovely flowers, 

Which Science strews to cheer mankind 
And charm to peace life's gloomy hours ? 

Is there a maid, beloved, admired, 

Whose friendship numbers joy to share, 
And who with reason's flame inspired 
Excels the « fairest of the fair f 

If haply such a maid be found 

Among the damsels of the green, 
With sweetest flowers let her be crowned, 

And hailed the sole, unequalled Queen. 



OF THE AUTHOR. 21 



Yes ! lovely Anna, charm'ng maid ! 

Can these and nobler charms display.... 
Come then ! her locks with roses braid, 

And hail her peerless Queen of may. 
Belfast, May 1, 1804. Colik. 



The answer to the above poem is inserted in the fol- 
lowing collection page 77. 

From the friendship and correspondence of William 
Hay ley, esq. our young poet has derived infinite advantage. 
This gentleman became acquainted with Mr. Robinson, 
while the latter was in London, studying his art under 
the celebrated Romney ; and the friendship he then 
conceived for the father, he has since continued to both 
father and son. At his request young Robinson wrote an 
elegy, generally esteemed the best of his poems, on the 
death of Romney, his father's instructor. This elegy will 
be found, with an engraving of the youthful author strew- 
ing flowers on the tomb of Romney, in the life of that 
eminent artist, written by Mr. Hayley. On receiving 
this elegy, Mr. Hayley sent him the following verses...* 

Romney ! departed friend of generous fire ! 

Most pure benificeiu e was oft thy aim, 
Thy fervent heart exulted to inspire 

Ingenius youth with emulation's flame. 

For this rare merit, honoured in the dead ! 

More rare distinction to thy tomb is given, 
There Youth s poetic flowers sweet incense shed, 

Such sweets, so early ! are the gift of heaven. 



22 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



Young* Romney of the lyre ! thou wondrous bard ! 

As wondrous as the bloom of Aaron's wand, 
Through life, the Muse of Sion be thy guard, 
Firm as a friend ! and, as a mother, fond I 



To the " Epistle written to Mr. Hay ley, on reading his 
Triumph of Music" page 109, that gentleman returned 
the following answer.... 

Blest be thy heart, ingenuous youth ! 

And all its kind effusions blest ! 
May Genius, Virtue, Joy and Truth 

Form their asylum in thy breast ! 

Could glory round my brow dispose 

The brightest laurel of her land, 
More dear to me affection's rose, 

Presented by a filial hand! 

Thy praise is honour. ..honour most refined! 
Nature's frank offering from a spotless mind. 



The following beautiful and pathetic address, the pro- 
duction of Miss Jessy Stewart, a young lady in Edinburgh, 
well known in the literary world as the author of the ex- 
quisite" Ode to Dr. Percy" may be added to the many ho- 
nours that have been paid to the young bard.... 

TO ROMNEY ROBINSON. 
While the warm glow of childhood's dawning ray 
Beams like the splendour of meridian day, 



OF THE AUTHOR. 23 



Fav'rite of Heaven! in early strength sublime, 
Thy genius mocks the tedious march of time, 
Anticipates the stores of lettered youth, 
The tardy spoils of learning-, taste and truth, 
And arrogates the meed of young renown, 
The classic garland and the laurelled crown. 

On thee the Muse bestows her golden lyre 
By fancy hallowed with celestial fire ; 
The living chords thy infant hands obey.... 
Entranced, she owns, and triumphs in the lay. 
Hark ! the sweet n>tes by Laga.i's winding shore 
Under the foot of Mourne, that mountain hoar! 
Softly they float along the gliding wave, 
To soothe the slumbering tenant of the grave.* 

When first her pure divinity possessed 
The holy temple of thy glowing breast, 
Her magic fingers bound the laurel bough 
In gay luxuriance on thy infant brow, 
With dew nectareous bathed its deathless bloom, 
Pure as the tears that fell on Romney's tomb f 
" Be thine," she said, "the seraph powers that brings 
M The soul of music from the trembling string, 
" And thine, to soothe with Pity's charmed strain 
" The woes of memory aching in the brain ; 
" Bid the warm tear of generous Nature flow, 
" And teach the proud the luxury of woe ; 



• Alluding to Romney Robinson's Verses on the Death of 
William Cunningham. 

f Alluding to his Elegy on Mr. Roraney. 



24 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



u To kindred minds congenial dreams impart, 
" Thrill through the soul, and triumph o'er the heart. 
She paused, to seal with Hope's prophetic tears 
The early promise of thy infant years. 

Yes, thou shalt realize her fondest dream, 
And drink inspiring ardours from the heam 
That burns to consecrate each deathless name, 
For ages worshipped at the shrine of Fame ; 
Recal the dreams of Fancy's golden age, 
And rouse the slumbering genius of the stage ; 
Seize the wild harp eternal Nature strung 
W hose awful voice o'er haunted Avon rung, 
Strike from its chords sparks of ethereal fire 
And warm a languid age with Shakespear's lyre : 
Bid freedom lighten in the patriot's eye, 
And martyrM Virtue wake the bursting sigh ; 
Stamp on the glowing heart of sanguine youth 
The glorious image of immortal Truth ; 
With nightly horrors freeze the tyrant's breast. 
While bleeding visions haunt his feverish rest, 
Bid vengeance rend from his convulsing brow 
Th' imperial crown, and conquest's laurel bough. 
And sternly lift the bright unconquered shield 
That beamed at Birnam and on Bos worth field. 

Or wilt thou love to bask in milder beams 
And soothe Afl iction's solitary dreams ; 
Turn from the crimsoned field, the warrior's bier 
To wake and steal the lover's starting- tear, 
Dissolve the heart with Beauty's graceful form, 
And bid a lovelier Belvidera charm ? 



OF THE AUTHOR. 



Yes, thou shalt chase with Truth's returning ray 
Each darling" folly, worshipped for a day, 
Keen as the glance from her indignant eye 
Bid the light shafts of polished Satire fly, 
At Vice and Folly aim the poignant dart, 
But spare the wandering* of a generous heart! 
Be thine the task with chastened zeal to soothe 
Negh cted Age and disappointed Youth, 
Lighten the heavy brow of withering Care, 
And the warm bliss of Angel-natures share. 

Shrink not, blest Boy ! though Envy's scorpion sting 
Strike to thy heart and wound its quivering string..... 
The healing balm of visionary bliss 
Shall soothe the anguish of a pang like this ; 
Lift, unappalled, the soul .illumined eye, 
Disdain to breathe the weakness of a sigh, 
And nobly rise, in native strength elate, 
Far, far superior to a vulgar fate. 
Edinburgh, Nov. 26, 1805. 



After the Battle of Trafalgar, young Robinson was 
animated with the hope of consecrating the deathless name 
of the British hero, and began two poems on the subject 
of that glorious victory. He, however, desisted and could 
not be induced to resume the work, as he conceived that 
it had fallen into hands much mo.-e capable to do it justice. 
It has indeed been described with all the ardour of genius 
by the Rev. William Hamilton Drummond, whose poem 
on that subject reflects credit not only on himself, but on 
his country. 

D 



26 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



The following are the rude and unconnected effusions 
ef young Robinson on this occasion.... 

Britain o'er the ensanguined sea 
Darts the eye of agony \ 
Midst thejoy for triumphs won 
Yearns, the mother o'er her son..„ , 
Stretched in death the hero lies, 
Weeping Victory seals his eyes ! 

Peaceful in an honoured grave 

Sleep the ashes of the brave, 

O'er whose urn and trophied bier 

Royal mourners drop the tear ! j 

Beauty heaves the bursting sigh! 

Nations feel sad sympathy ! 

Youth by hoary warriors led 
Throng around the mighty dead, 
While their fathers pointing say, 
*' Such be ye, on battle's day ! 
* : For your country yield your breath 
" Glorious is the Patriot's death!" 



Europe's wrongs to arms inspire, 
Loud the din of battle roars, 
Echoing like conflicting fire 
Round the Danube's trembling shores ; 
Austria's sons for war combine 
At length resolved their arms to wield, 
In bloody conflict with the Gaul they join, 
And Death stalks horrid o'er th' ensanguined field, 



OF THE AUTHOR. 27 



With giant strength Injustice rears his horn, 
And Austria, sinking in that fateful morn, 
Drops lifeless to the ground, of all her glory shorn. 

Through the gloom of midnight hoar, 

Hark ! the famished raven screams, 

Huin welters in his gore, 

Horror's eye with frenzy gleams » 

But England's mighty sons appear 

And 'gainst the foe her vengeance guide, 

Break the proud tyrant* s purpled spear, 

And with her lightning blasts his pride ; 
Scorns his infuriate hate and vengeful ire, 
Thunders around his shores and wraps his fleets in fire. 

Hark ! Trafalgar's groaning wave 

Foams with streams of crimson gore, 

Bronte bids the battle rave, 

Bids the voice of vengeance roar ; 

Spain starts astonished at the sounds,, 

While round her shores th' explosions ring,, 

The hero's arm proud Gaul confounds, 

And o'er his brow new laurels spring, 
Which shall for ever bloom on Albion's shore, 
And blood-stained France shall own his wrath once more ; 
Hath torn her new-fledged plumes and drowned her pride in gore. 

But, Fame ! thy hundred tongues are vain, # 

Stretched in death thy warrior lies* 

Sorrow melts his conquering train, 

While weeping Victory seals his eyes ; 

She twines no roses with our arms, 

Death's sombre gloom her triumph shades, 

The dazzling splendour of her charms 

Eclipsed by grief and sorrow fades. 



28 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



Britain his name emblazons with her tears, 

Mourns o'er the annals of a length of years, 

Where bright in warlike deeds her heroV name appears 

He shall still his country save. 

On his throne of clouds up -borne, 

Hovering o'er the midnight wave 

By th' impetuous whirl-wind torn. 

When war resistless mows his way 

And bids the martial trumpet sound, 

When the proud squadron's black array 

Ramparts of lurid flame surround, 
He, then, all conquering courage shail bestow, 
And bid with freedom's flame each bosom glow, 
And with immortal might forever quell the foe. 

In January 1 806, he entered a pensioner in Trinity 
College, Dublin, under the particular patronage of Profes- 
sor Lloyd. Whether he will there make the application 
of his powers necessary to sustain the character he has al- 
ready acquired, remains yet to be tried.* A Fellowship 
in that University, which is a situation conferred only on 
the excellence of literary merit, united to the dignity of a 



* The present writer has infinite pleasure in announcing that 
since the above was written,, young Robinson has commenced his 
college course with considerable credit and has already obtained a 
prize at the quarterly examinations ; a distinction which is not 
lightly conferred in the University of D ublin. 



OF THE AUTHOR. 29 



moral and religious character, has long been the object to 
which a laudable ambition prompts him to aspire, 

On his leaving Belfast, the following verses were ad- 
dressed to him, by the Rev. W. H. Drummond.... 

TO ROMNEY ROBINSON. 

TBEVIOUS 7*0 HIS ENTERING 'THE UNIVERSlfT OF DUBLIK. 

Ere Science in her proud retreat 
The Muses' nursling fondly greet, 
Or nobler fires thy soul inflame, 
To climb the slippery paths of fame. 
My dearest boy, my song attend, 
And hear thy monitor and friend. 

What though the fond and partial Muse 
Bathed thy young lips in Fancy's dews, 
Though Genius hailed thy natal hour, 
Culled every fair and fragrant flower, 
Twined them around his laurel bough 
And placed the chaplet on the brow ; 
Though Science drew, with honest pride, 

The infant poet to her side ; 
Nought shall their art and care avail, 
But Nature's noblest gifts shall fail, 
Thy lyre be feeble and unstrung, 
Thy name unhonoured and unsung, 
Nor shall the deathless laurel twine 
Around that sapient brow of thine, 
Unless in study's field thou toil, 
Unless thou burn the midnight oil, 
And from the Greek and Roman store 
Cull the rich intellectual ore, 



30 A SHORT ACCOUNT 



Young" glories now thy brow adorn 
Fair as the opening* charms of morn, 
And sunny prospects rising- bright, 
To honour's shrine thy steps invite, 
Then go, my boy, and with thee bear 
My ardent hope, my fondest prayer ; 
And O, beware, lest flattery's art 
Seduce thy young unpractised heart, 
Lest pleasure tempt thy soul to stray 
From holy Wisdom's peaceful way, 
Or strong temptation, dreaded foe I 
Lay all thy rising glories low 

Since partial Nature fondly smiled 
On Fancy's nursling, Wisdom's child, 
Haste to complete the glorious plan, 
Nor let the boy surpass the man ; 
To nobler triumphs now aspire, 
Than ever graced thy infant lyre, 
Let Emulation's purest flame 
Incite thy ardent soul to fame, 
And realize each prospect fair 
Of Perc\'s hope and Bruce's care, 

Mount Collyer, Dec, 20, 1805. W. H. D. 

The present writer cannot conclude this short ac- 
count without warning the reader, that the following 
collection of poems, is the work of a boy, even now ? 
under thirteen years. 

Belfasty March 1^ 1806. 



DEDICATION. 

To the Right Rev. Thomas, Lord JBisho/i o/Dromore, 

MY LORD, 

This little offering is very inadequate to 
repay to your Lordship a vast weight of obli- 
gation It is, however, all I have to bestow, 

and as a testimony of my gratitude, it may not 

be unacceptable I pray your Lordship to re- 

ceive it with that kind partiality and indulgence 
which its author has so often experienced from 
your Lordship. 

I am, my Lord, 

Your Lordship's obliged 

And most grateful Servant, 
THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON, 

Trinity College, Dublin, 
March 12, 1806. 



ROBINSON'S POEMS. 



«• 



TO J)JR. CRAWFORD. 



WRITTEN IN HIS SEVENTH TEAR,. 



AGAIN en Fancy's wings I fly, 

Again I strike the trembling lyre ! 
Thousands are born and thousands die, 
Yet few can feel poetic fire. 



To rosy Health, like chearful day, 

By thee restored, my fancy tries 

Once more to wake the Aonianlay, 

To thee, through whom I view the skies; 

E 



36 POEMS BY 



When grim Contagion breathing death, 

And Pestilence together fly, 
And Fever, fierce as Auster's breath, 

Glares, like a meteor, through the sky \ 

Thou, as of old the healing God, 
Fling'st thy benevolence around ; 

Thou drivcst Woe, with iron rod, 
Makest Sorrow fly wherever found. 

May blessings crown thy calm retreat, 
Thy life may every power defend ! 

While I, in learning's sacred seat, 
Can ne'er forget my absent friend, 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 37 



ON THE PEACE, 



WRITTEN IN HIS EIGHTH YEAR, 



JT E ACE, long from Europe driven, at length returns.... 

Her olive branch o'er hostile climes extends, 
Unhappy cities scourged by War she mourns, 

And furious Slaughter from the earth she sends* 

With horror chill'd she stands intent to view 
Those frightful scenes that lie before her eyes ; 

Where stately cities rose and forests grew, 
Nothing but ruined walls and weeds do rise. 

The rapid Rhine shall cease with blood to flow, 
Nor longer shall th 7 affrighted Gaul behold 

Upon its banks encamp'd the warlike foe, 
While heaps of bodies in its waves are rolled 



38 POEMS BY 



Now Agriculture, friend to life! does spread ; 

Th' industrious farmer tills his ground with joy ; 
For now no hostile band he views with dread 

Beneath whose numerous feet the dust did fly. 

O Peace ! who art the greatest good below, 
Abundant still to us thy blessings give ! 

For bliss continual war can never know, 
And wanting thee for ever, could we live I 



\kVkS* 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 39 



ON SEEING A PICTURE OF MOUNT 
VESUVIUS. 



WRITTEN IN HIS EIGHTH YEAR, 



JTlERE Torre rose ; here villas once were seea t 

And this delightful spot was clothed in green : 

Now heaps of cinders on the ground are spread. 

And showers of ashes through the air are shed » 

Far off the flame refulgent darts its rays, 

The undulating sea reflects the blaze ; 

The sulphured rock from earth with fury flung,. 

Aloft in air, seems like a meteor hung j 

The fiery torrent rushing down the steep, 

Bears herds and trees, and cities to the deep r 

Italia trembles at the dreadful roar, 

And weeping Naples mourns her ruined shore. 



40 POEMS BY 



ON VISITING THE MOUNT AT 
DROMORE. 



WRITTEN IN HIS NINTH YEAR. 



C_>AN mad Ambition's tumults have embrued, 

This peaceful scene in bloody war and wrong ? 
Did Vice and Envy ever here intrude, 

And change to sighs the shepherd's simple song I 

Yes ! raging Discord, from her mother fell> 
On sounding pinions oft has ta'en her flight, 

E'en to the peasant's cot in lonely dell, 

As to high Heaven above empyrean height. 

Hear the hoarse murmur of yon rapid flood ! 

Whose Genius oft in Fancy's eye appears 
Clad in a dreadful robe of clotted blood, 

And laves his gloomy sides with widows' tears ! 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 41 

Hear the sad spirits of yon ruined tower, 
Historic deeds of dreadful import tell ! 

How in Oblivion's dark Lethean bower, 
Heroic worth has oft been doomed to dwell. 

Perhaps this mount, by Banish tyrants reared, 
Proved a safe refuge in the dreadful hour ; 

When fierce in arms their vengeful foes appeared, 
Or when the subjects scorned the prince's power* 

Perhaps 'twas fashioned by an army's hands, 

Where some brave hero breathed his last in war + 

Now a sepulchral monument it stands, 

And seems to strike the flaky clouds from far. 

Perhaps this moat impetuous ran with blood, 
The blood of heroes on the mountain slain* 

A crimson tinge distained the silver flood, 
Which bore their shields and helmets to the mam, 



42 POEMS BY 



While at his breast a thousand swords were reared, 
Some dart, ill-omened, at their chief was thrown. 

Great, even in death unconquered, he appeared, 
Nor proved himself unworthy of a throne. 

Methinks I see the warrior stretched in gore ! 

From every wound the blood appears to stream ; 
His widowed wife bewails her spouse.. ..no more.... 

And mourns the signs of life's departing beam. 

Ah ! what avails to him the fond embrace, 
Or her sad grief whose sighs affright the air ? 

While many a kiss imprints his clay-cold face, 
Her pallid cheeks bedewed with many a tear ! 

O curst Contention ! source of every woe ! 

How rank the harvest planted by thee grew ! 
Thou taught'st us first the javelin how to throw, 

Nor fear, though arrows drenched in poison flew. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 43 



Hence, snaky Discord ! from my frighted view, 
Who rend'st the bands of social love in twain, 

As late the thistle's down in union grew, 

But severed now, 'tis scattered o'er the plain. 

Go, search the records of the passing day, 

Which still will stain Contention's ample page 
There wilt thou find unbounded lust of sway, 

Mixed with remorse and disappointed rage- 
Behold yon evening vapour like to gold, 

Out-stretched along the horizontal sky ! 
So proud Ambition in all ages rolled, 

Tinged with each glittering ray that passes by. 

But vain the honour is, and vain the praise, 

Which on Contention's bloody torrent flow : 

*Tis but a gloomy monument we raise, 

To teach our sons the bitterness of woe. 

F 



/ 

44 POEMS BY 



TEE TRIUMPH OF COMMERCE. 
ADDRESSED TO MR. W. RITCHIE OF BELFAST 

WRITTEN IN HIS NINTH YEAR* 

•HlIGH on a cliff, upon the sea-beat shore, 

Hibernia heard the distant tempest roar: 

Her golden harp upon a rock was hung, 

Which with the whistling winds more mournful rung ^ 

Her sea-green vest loose floated in the wind.... 

Pensive she sat, upon a rock reclined : 

Low, at her feet, was placed her ponderous spear 

Of power to strike the tyrant's heart with fear ; 

'Gainst it nor shield nor cuirass can avail, 

Nor can the steely strength of shining mail* 

She mourned her sons unskilled in naval arts, 

Though blessed by nature with courageous .hearts ; 



THOMAS ROMNET ROBINSON. 45 



Commerce she called from farthest India's land,. 
The Nymph appeared upon the yellow sand....- 
" Go, said the Queen, to Caledonia bear 
c * Our mandate ; swiftly cleave the yielding air ^ 
" Bid her instruct my sons to fell the pine, 
a To bend the oak, the shapeless mass to join, 
c: From which Britannia sees her glory rise, 
a Her fame unbounded as the trackless skies. 5 * 

Scarce had she spoke... /impatient of delay 
The Nymph her sandals seized and strode away : 
Then down the steep she plunged, and rose on high, 
And cut with equal wings the stormy sky* 
Gold were her garments, diamond clasps behind 
Sustained the vests that wantoned in the wind j 
Inlaid with pearls the costly vestures shine, 
And flaming hyacinths and sapphires join 
In chearful radiance and in temper bland, 
Which here congenial meet from every land* 



4 3 POEMS BY 

Green were her sandals laced with oozy weed. 
And white her pinions like the wind in speed. 
When now arrived nigh Caledonia's lands. 
Arrayed in armour bright the Goddess stands; 
Her plumy helm was rough with many a scar, 
And on her shield she bore the marks of war. 
Gold was the helm, the flaming crest on high 
Blazed, like a meteor, through the troubled sky ; 
High o'er the helm arose a shady plume.... 
As when Caucasian rocks their pines assume, 
The verdant trees the lofty mountain hide, 
And shake their rustling foliage on his side : 
High o'er the crest a prickly thistle towers, 
Green were the leaves, and silver were the flowers< 
The golden shield keen glittered from afar, 
A dreadful omen to her foes in war ; 
Upon its field a lion spreads his paws, 
Shakes his distended main, and opes his jaws. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 47 

She shook her spear the dread of kings in fight? 
The flaming cuirass gleamed a dreadful light* 
Her glittering cuishes were a mingled mass 
Of gold, of silver, and of mountain-brass. 

The Goddess spoke. .." To what place are you bent?^ 
She thus replied. .*." By fair Hibernia sent 
44 To thee I come, nor hope I come in vain, 
44 Since I for this have crossed the stormy main ; 
" To bid thee teach her sons each naval art, 
44 And choose some chief this knowledge to impart, 
44 From which Britannia sees her glory rise, 
a Her fame unbounded as the trackless skies.** 

The Queen assented and produced the man, 
And showed him to the Nymph, and thus began.... 
44 Ingenious Ritchie ! Commerce now may smile, 
44 And shed her blessings o'er Hibernians Isle ; 
44 Go, teach her sons to raise the ship on high, 
44 The pointed mast, high towering to the sty. 



48 POEMS BY 



« ; But go, thy stay no longer I detain, 

11 Go, seek Ierne o'er the watry plain ; 

a And then, my son, consult Hibernians good, 

11 And teach her sons to stem the rapid flood ; 

14 To brave the storm deep lowering from afar, 

a And fearless meet the elemental war." 

Swift, as she spoke, he vanished from her vieKry 

Unfurled the sails^ and o'er the ocean flew ; 

The active Nymph each hostile wind repelled, 
And still with prosperous gales the canvass swelled. 

Hibernians rocks now rose upon the sight, 
And clouds high hovering o'er the mountain's height.; 
Whose pointed promontories roughly frown, 
And as a buckler guard the industrious town, 
"Which, dim in misty robe, of aspect grand, 
Seems like an exhalation from the strand. 
A stately tower defends from every foe, 
Around whose head the ratling tempests blow : 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 49 



Shut from the bay the winds and waves complain, 
And vent their fury on the cliffs in vain : 
Its mighty walls have felt the stroke of war* 
And still the ruthless w T ound imprints a scar ^ 
The solid Jbase by Fergus erst was reared* 
Then first its head above the sea appeared. 

, And now the ship by yielding sand embraced^, 
Recumbent on her oozy bed was placed ; 
lerne saw them from the rocky steep 
She spoke.. ••her voice resounded o'er the deep : 

" Blest Commerce hail ! thy all-enlivening hand 
* 4 Rears the tall vessel on the barren strand ; 
j* Thy numerous ports with teeming wealth o'erflow^ 
Xi And Science pours her blessings here below : 
u Thy ample power can join the distant lands, 
u Thy smiles can give us more than life demands-j 
P Undaunted, though old ocean scale the sky, 
u Thou f like swift Eurus, o'er the sea dost fly ^ t 



50 POEMS BY 



* Thou neither fear'st when waves tumultuous roar^ 
u Nor foaming surges lash the sounding shore : 

ct High on the mast thou tak'st thy dangerous stand ; 
H Involved in clouds thou vicw'st th* approaching land, 
" Thou join'st Golconda's gems with Chili's gold ; 
a For thee Potosi's ore midst lire is rolled : 
" 'Twas thou inspired'st the bold adventurer's mind,, 
ic And mad'st him leave Liguria's shores behind ; 
" Thou spread'st his sails and steerd'st his rapid way, 
41 And led'st him oft where death in ambush lay. 
" Inspired by thee the daring Cook arose, 

* Who scorned the tropic's heat and polar snows ; 

u Through hills of ice he forced his dangerous way, 

" Which chilled the boldest heart with cold dismay ; 

u He Science led across the stormy main, 

u And called fair Peace to join the savage train, 

" Religion, breathing blessings o'er the land, 

tt And Plenty, laughing on his bounteous hand ; 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 5l 

" Drew the fierce savage from his desart wild, 

" To till the glebe where simple nature smiled. 

u But now the sea shall soon be covered o'er, 

" And rapid ships descend on every shore : 

rt Now, by thy care, I visit every clime, 

" While o'er the deep my vessels fly sublime. 

<c Such be thy boast, O Ritchie !....thus proceed, 

" And through the paths of life let virtue lead ; 

" With every effort of thy useful art, 

M With every passion of the feeling heart, 

H Go, claim the crown excelling virtue brings, 

" A prize more precious than the wealth of kings : 

" Nor fear thy fame like evening shades shall fly, 

*' Fixed as the Sun that gilds the vaulted sky, 

" When o'er the globe he darts his radiant fires, 

" And the scorched Indian from his ray retires ; 

" Or as a rock that rears his head on high, 

" While deep in earth his fixed foundations lie ; 

" His head resists the storm, his solid side 

41 Still mocks the fury of the thundering tide ; 

G 



52 POEMS BY 



44 Urged by the blast the swelling surges roar, 

iX They strike, and striking shake the trembling shore ; 

" But fixed as earth he stands, and mocks their toil, 

" While broken surges round his basis boil. 

w Thus blest the man whose virtues are, like thine, 

" A theme for Phcebus and the sacred Nine, 

44 Whose hallowed song on Truth's swift pinion flies, 

rt And the loud paean shakes the vaulted skies ; 

44 How Envy's power in every age is found, 

u Yet Virtue scorns the meditated wound ; 

44 Repels the shaft with poisonous juice imbued, 

4C As twilight vapours by the morn pursued, 

44 Whose orient beam dispels them wide around, 

a And mix'd with genial fires no more they're found. 

11 Blessed by thy art what wealth shall Commerce bring, 

44 And unknown nations hail her outstretched wing ! 

4C Thy numerous works are trophies of thy fame, 

44 Which Envy's poisonous breath can ne'er defame. 1 ' 




THOMAS ROMNET ROBINSON. 53 



OJST MY FATHER'S BIRTH DAT. 



WRITTEN IN HIS NINTH YEAR. 

JL HE fleeting year revolving round 
Again brings back thy natal day - 9 

Let Mirth and Joy be ever found, 
And Health renew her roseate sway. 

While Sickness and her direful train, 
With hasty steps, have ta'en their flight ; 

And Arts and Sciences again 

Shall cheer the hours with gay delight. 

With jocund mien, midst Sorrow's gloom, 
Those charm despondency away ; 

And these th' enveloped mind illume 
With heavenly Wisdom's sacred ray. 



54 



POEMS BY 



Thus may kind Heaven thy years increase, 
And gently smooth that rugged road, 

Whose flowery end 's eternal Peace, 
Which leads to Virtue's blest abode. 




THOM4S ROMNEY ROBINSON. 55 



ENVY. A FRAGMENT. 

WRITTEN IN HIS NINTH YEAR. 

W E know, if truth inspired the prophet's tongue, 
Ere harmony from chaos smiling sprung ; 
Ere light had spread around his genial ray, 
And new-formed nature hailed the blushing day, 
Ere this terraqueous ball was hung on high, 
Ere man was fated for his crime to die, 
Envy in heaven had formed fallacious schemes, 
And fired the angels with ambitious dreams ; 
But hurled from high around the earth she flew, 
And human bliss was blighted at her view. 

When o'er the globe Night spread her pitchy shade, 
This baneful power her out-stretched wings displayed, 
With gangrened mind she raised herself on high, 
And wild the passions follow through the sky. 



56 POEMS BY 



And now she hovered o'er the northern shores, 
Where, midst eternal ice, dire Heck roars ; 
High o'er its far-seen cone the storm resounds, 
And Thule trembles to her utmost bounds ; 
Oft o'er the stars a pitchy veil it pours, 
And burning cinders fall in sulphurous showers ; 
Oft shattered rocks are forceful hurled on high, 
Or bursting flames attack the lowering sky ; 
Whirled by the wind they roar, portentous t red, 
And o'er the deep their light malignant shed ; 
Or through the air they roil their bickering spires, 
And fright heaven's concave with their sudden fires 
Oft from her caves the melted minerals boil, 
And sweep to ruin all the labourer's toil. 

When envy heard th r imprisoned vapours roar, 
And shake the solid basis of the shore, 
Joy filled her mind to see the mountain reel, 
And distant worlds the extended earthquake feel j 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 57 



Then o'er the raging flame her course she bends, 
Down to the lowest cave the flame descends ; 
The burning sulphur shunned her hated sight^ 
And o'er the deep was spread a starless night* 
Far in the northern seas with ice congealed, 
There stood an isle to mortals near revealed ; 
Still o'er it mists and clouds eternal hung, 
And raging storms with bursts of horror rung; 
Round it impervious vapours formed a veil, 
Whose shadowy folds repelled the frightened sail. 
Far hence the sacred lights of heaven retire ; 
But, in the centre, gleamed a flaming pyre 
Forth from a cave, where boiling sulphurs glow f 
And on the gloom a faint reflection throw ; 
While round the roof which one vast concave forma, 
In rapid vortex whirl the igneous storms ; 
Deep in the earth contending fires engaged, 
And nature saddened as the conflict raged. 



58 POEMS BY 



This direful scene, congenial, pleased her view,... 
Descending, down in aery curves she flew ; 
And, now alighted in the center, stood, 
All grim with rage and terrible with blood : 
Black was her vest besmeared with clotted gore, 
And black the pinions which her sandals bore ; 
Her ample wings the screech owl's plumes compose, 
And from her tongue the Hydra's venom flows ; 
In spiry wreaths fierce vipers curled, around 
Her snaky head, dropped poison o'er the ground. 

And while her mystic charm the fury flung 
Terrific, from her fierce envenomed tongue, 
Loud roared the rushing blast with deeper growl, 
Enraged the mountain spirits loudly howl. 

Old ocean rose and white with age appeared, 
High o'er his subject-seas his front he reared, 
His aged brows with vivid lightnings crowned, 
And round his head conflicting storms resound. 



. .- ..... .... , . . . . . .. - i .. <■ ..».. i, .. . i . .. J . .L.tfiw. 1 ! 'J-.- J a jju., im i i ll m 

THOMAS ROMNET ROBINSON. 59 



To him th' Enchantress.,.," Let thy whirlwinds sweep 
" With rage resistless o'er the billowy deep, 
u Overwhelm the prow that dares to brave the surge, 
<c And 'gainst the rocks the fated vessel urge ; 
a While I o'er worlds immense my poison fling, 
a And dart at human bliss th' envenomed sting, 
*■ Till blood and murder mark my boundless sway, 
u And regions now unknown my power obey." 

She ceased to speak the power that swells the storm 
Plunged in the gulphy deep his giant form ; 
While from black nitrous clouds the thunders roar^ 
And mountain cliffs the rapid lightning tore. 
Swift, hideous forms of monsters prowl around, 
And horrid bowlings shake th' affrighted ground ; 
Some guard her cell, and some the whirlwind guide 
To plunge the daring vessels in the tide. 

Then mad Ambition, with his direful train 

Of ills, proceeds across the dreary plain ; 

H 



60 POEMS BY 



These Discord led, and Pride with wide control, 
And Anger....stern oppressor of the soul ! 
Grim, in the rear, fierce Murder chief appeared, 
His hand a dagger grasped with blood besmeared ; 
Wild was his look, and loose his horrent hair 
That streamed with gore along th* affrighted air. 
These are her agents...ethese commissioned go 
To human kind eternal source of woe. 

*&l +fc *W, *&> 2J£ *&. Ait J4i Hi. H& 2& 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 61 



TRANSLATION FROM OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. 

WRITTEN IN HIS TENTH YEAR, 

1 HE Sun's bright palace high on columns raised, 

O'erspread with gold and Haming jewels, blazed j. 

The lofty roofs of polished ivory gleam 

With gems refulgent in the solar beam ; 

The spacious gate composed of silver shines, 

The sumless treasure of exhausted mines r 

Adorned by art....for Vulcan's skilful hand 

Had graved the waters and th' encompassed land : 

There, in the ocean, tuneful Triton stood r 

And there appeared the ever-changing god ; 

Placed on a whale, iEgeon seems to guide 

Th' enormous monster through the ambient tide ; 

And Doris there, with all her beauteous train 

Of nymphs^ was drawn....part seemed to swim the main, 



62 FOETUS BY 



Part on a rock their sea-green tresses dried, 
And part on Dolphins o'er the surges ride \ 
Though various charms each lovely sister grace, 
A sister's likeness shone in every face. 

Th> extended earth appears with cities crowned. 
And waving forests shed their shadows round - P 
The savage race in gloomy caverns hide ; 
Th' attractive moon directs the rushing tide ; 
The azure vault with stars bespangled shone ; 
The zodiac there was seen, a golden zone. 

Placed on a throne whose sides with emeralds shine, 
But more the artist rendered it divine, 
Apollo sate ; his glowing locks were spread 
Beneath the crown that decked his radiant head ; 
On right and left revolving years are found, 
And ages, rolling in succession round ; 
The days and months are there, a numerous band, 
Th' obedient hours at equal distance stand ; 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON* 63 



There stood the Spring in flowery garments drest, 
The blazing Summer dropped his cumbrous vest, 
Besmeared with grapes the yellow Autumn stood, 
And hoary Winter chained the rapid flood* 



TRANSLATION FROM OVID'S TRISTIA. 

WRITTEN IN HIS TENTH YEAR. 

I, WHERE through Scythian deserts Ister pours 
By torrents swoln his rapid tide along, 

Where rolling surges tear the sounding shores, 
Even by my friends neglected tune my song* 

But yet, if Fate restrain her cruel hand 

And spin thy snowy thread without a stain, 

A while suspended shall my sorrows stand 
And freed from grief a while my mind remain* 



64 POEMS BY 



Why still inquire the torment of my mind ? 

The cause unanswered you may best explore ; 
Me, wretched, wandering o'er the snows you'll find, 

For Caesar drove me from my natal shore. 

You seek to know where barren Tomos lies, 
And what the vests the savage rustics wear, 

What nations Commerce draws from other skies, 
And what the instruments of war they bear. 

The Scythian, white with drifts of fleecy snow, 
Directs his horse obedient to the reins ; 

Slurg at his back he bears a crooked bow, 

And shafts whose poison fires the purple veins. 

Wild is their look, and such would Mars appear ! 

Nor slow their hand to draw the shining steel, 
Adown their back descends their uncut hair.... 

Think, think what here vour tender bard must feel. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 65 

-.:-■■ „,,.' .„.,......■..,■■ -- , —: , ... ..k.,,.: 1 , . 1 ^...t : 



Soon shall my soul desert this barbarous clime^ 
The dire surmise my woes declare too true $ 

Even now in thought my spirit flies sublime 
And brighter prospects open to my view* 

You write my verses acted on the stage, 

A numerous audience pleased, and gained applause, 

My taste pursues not the dramatic page, 
Nor am I skilful in Thalia's laws. 

Farewel my muse I farewel my tuneful lyre ! 

Ye forced me thus in solitude to mourn $ 
By you to barren deserts I retire.... 

How .vain the thought ! unbidden they return : 

The bark thus shattered by Euboea's tide 

When vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole* 

Dares on the Capharean waves to ride, 
And moves the faster as the surges roll. 



. ^rr " ' ' ■ — 

66 POEMS BY 



I ask not Fame o'er every region spread, 

I better deem my sorrows to conceal, 
And o'er my name her dews may Lethe spread 

Nor me to late posterity reveal. 

My weary mind from studies I restrain, 
On barbarous shores, unpitied and alone ; 

There of the savage rustics I complain, 
Who take no part in sorrow not their own. 

Like rabid wolves they range through desert fields, 
Armed with a bow and lance they prowl around ; 

To brutal strength impartial justice yields, 

And law falls conqueredon the blood-stained ground. 

They, clad in skins, the winter's cold despise, 
The rugged hides of bears their limbs adorn ; 

Nor heed when Boreas rages through the skies, 
And woods, the growth of ages, are uptorn. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 67 

Scarce from their mouth one Latin word I hear, 
With barbarous Getic mixed, discordant sound ! 

Sonorous Homer pleases not my ear, 

Nor sweet Theocritus with laurel crowned. 

Even now I fear lest Time's corroding hand 
May change the manners which I used before, 

And give the language of this barbarous land 
For that descending from th' Ausonian shore. 

Soon to my mind may Death his blessings bring, 
Death, the best comforter of every pain ! 

O'er every deed Oblivion stretch thy wing.... 
Oft shall my shade rejoice, if such I gain. 




68 POEMS BY 



ADDRESS TO LIBERTT. 

WRITTEN IX HIS TENTH YEAR. 

O LIBERTY ! thou high descended maid ! 

Mother of heroes !.,..heaven's peculiar care I 
Pale Want and Sorrow fly from thee afraid, 
But peaceful Rest and Joy thy influence share. 

The mountains sink beneath thy plastic hand, 
The Alpine snows dissolving cheer the plain ; 

By thee the sacred powers of Law command, 
And virtue dreadful to the tyrant's reign. 

Before thy steps the waving harvests spring, 

The gifts of plenty at thy smile appear ; 
Returning suns increasing splendour bring, 

And a new verdure gladdens all the year. 

By thee Britannia's sons with ardour glow, 

While round their ship the blood-stained surges roll J 

They pour swift vengeance on the trembling foe, 
And their loud thunders shake the solid pole. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 69 



QN MRS. PERCY'S LIBERAL PRESENT OF WARM 
CLOTHING TO THE DROMORE TEOMANRT. 

WRITTEN IN HIS TENTH YEARv 

VV AR'S bloody deluge hither pours.... 

Now France with conquered slaves combines 

To bear destruction to our shores, 

And scatter death through hostile lines* 

But vain the prospect, vain the scheme^ 
Their vessels soon shall flow with blood, 

And, like the phantom of a dream, 
Shall sink to glut the vengeful flood., 

The trump of war Britannia blew...- 

Borne on its rushing blast, the sound 
O'er adverse worlds like thunder flew, 

And, dreadful, shook the trembling ground* 



70 POEMS BY 



But in her realm th' enlivening blast 
The martial strength of armies raised, 

Nor was her navy's force the last 
Exulting as her lightnings blazed. 

These , borne impetuous through the surge^, 
Shall widely rule the watery field j 

Those shall the flaming battle urge, 
Nor e'er to blood-stained Gallia yield- 

For midst our sea-surrounded land 
A mind with patriot ardour glows, 

-Which bids them brave rough Winter's hand, 
Who rules the seasons chilled with snows. 

Thus, thus direct your wealth, ye Fair ! 

And following Percy's footsteps tread ; 
Assist the bands with generous care 

Who guard your peace, by Freedom led. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 7\ 

In vain the tyrant marks our isle, 

In vain on air his banner streams ; 
If Beauty pleased benignant smile, 

We scorn his power, we scorn his schemes* 



AN INVITATION- 
TO JOHN RUMNEY, ESQ. OF CUMBERLAND. 

WRITTEN IN HIS TENTH YEAH-. 

X* RIEND of my father's tender years, 

Who cheered his hopes and soothed his fears! 

Say, wilt thou leave Britannia's shores 

Where loud impetuous Derwent roars, 

And swiftly borne on wings of wind 

Leave the lessening towers behind, 

And view Hibernia's happy isle 

Where learning, arts and commerce smile ? 



72 POEMS BY 



:.-. .-..a.' 



"Where jutting hills a haven form, 

And mountain-rocks exclude the storm ? 

And if remote from scenes of care 

My rural pleasures thou canst share, 

The Muse shall guide thee through the mead, 

With vernal flowers and shamrocks spread, 

Or lead thee to the awful steep 

Whose brow o'crhangs the. rolling deep, 

There taste the pleasures of a day 

And charm intruding cares away : 
Or, through the scenes of classic lore 

On old Italia's martial shore ; 

Or ancient Greece for verse renowned, 

Or Albion's sons with laurel crowned : 



Or, where the scenes of painting rise, 
And emulate the orient skies ; 
To form the mimic face combine, 
And bloom along the varying line : 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 71 



Or, where the landscapes rich appear t 
Clothed with the blossoms of the year...* 
Friendship shall hail her welcome guest f 
And clasp thee to her longing breast 

.ON THE RESOLUTION OF THE ANTRIM TEOMANRT 

"To serve in any part of the Globe where it might p feast 
his Majesty to send them" 

WRITTEN IN HIS ELEVENTH YEAR* 

IS O W Discord fires her sanguine band, 
And hurls her torch and calls the war ; 
Now Mars unsheaths his blood-stained brand, 
And mounts the battle-ruling car> 

Gaul bids the fight, and o'er the ground 

Her legions rush at war's alarms ; 
And Italy and Spain around 

With fierce Batavia seize their arms.. 



74 POEMS BY 



But fixed old Anglia views their pride, 
With Scotia's race renowned in song, 

And bold lerne by their side 

Bears terror to the hostile throng* 

Her warlike sons in armour gleam, 
The steely radiance dims the sight ; 

Aloft in air their banners stream 

Which fling around dismay and flight. 

Chief, Antrim's sons. ...their hearts conspire 
To curb the rage of Freedom's foes ; 

Or midst the sun's consuming fire, 
Or northern winter's bleakest snows. 

Again their gore-stained arms they wield 
Which once with blasting vengeance flew, 

When wild Rebellion shook her shield 
And tound dismay and terror threw*- 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 75 



In vain would Gaul unsheath her sword, 
In vain her fleets would vex the wave, 

Were every chief as Antrim's Lord 
So nobly firm, so greatly brave. 

But long as Freedom's self remains, 
And long as patriot valour's seen, 

Still shall the sons of Erin's plains 
Revere the name of Massareene. 



OK SEEING THE PICTURE OF HAFIZ. 

WRITTEN IN HIS ELEVENTH YEAR* 

1>LEST art! who form'st the mimic face 

Where every tint and colour blend ; 

My fond remembrance joys to trace 

The bard, the father, and the friend. 

K 



7 6 POEMS BY 



Ulest art ! who bid'st those features smile 
With bright intelligence around : 

Thy magic touch shall Time beguile, 
And blunt Oblivion's ruriiless wound. 

Son of the lyre ! how rapt thine eye 

With nature's richest treasures fraught ! 

Whence flash the beams of wit and joy 
With all the attractive charms of thought. 

Creation gives thee boundless stores, 
And Fancy culls each gem divine, 

And o'er thy soul her influence pours, 
And round thy brow her wreaths entwine. 

Long as her sway the Muses own, 

And Taste and Judgment rule combined, 

And Wit unrivalled on his throne 
Hold his strong sceptre o'er the mind ; 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 77 



Still may this pictured form survive, 
And long its colours charm the eye ; 

With Raphael's fame his portrait live, 
Whose numbers with Italia vie. 

ANSWER TO A POEM ENTITLED 
" QUEEN OF THE MAY." 

WRITTEN IN HIS TWELFTH YEAR. 

Presumptuous Colin i dost thou dare 

From Beauty's brow the wreath to tear 
With Maia's flowers entwined ? 

Why dost thou crown with erring hand, 

The maiden of the rival band, 
In loveliness out-shined ? 



What though the rays of heavenly fire 
With Wisdom's light her soul inspire, 
And guide to Virtue's throne ; 



78 POEMS BY 



What though replete with Learning's flame 
Her mind the prize of Science claim 
Unrivalled and alone ; 

Yet ne'er the force of mental powers 
Obtained a maid the wished for flowers, 

For Beauty's self entwined ; 
Her brows alone whose heavenly charm* 
Inspire the soul with love's alarms, 

The balmy wreath can bind. 

She then, whose form outshines the dav. 
Is hailed the peerless Queen of May 

Of all that deck the green ; 
Who then the doubtful prize shall wear ? 
Behold, she comes. ...th' unequalled fair 5 

The lovely Catharine ! 



THOMAS ROM-NET ROBINSON. 79 



TO if?. ANDERSOX, ES%. M. JX EDINBURGH. 



WRITTEN IN HIS TWELFTH TEAR* 

To thee, Protector of the Muses' lyre ! 

I dare the guardian of my youth commend ; 
The ties of gratitude my heart inspire, 

And fond affection thus pursues my friend* 

For as the parent bird whose fearless eye 

Beholds the sun's bright orb with stedfast gaze^ 

Trains his bold offspring towering through the sky 
To view the terrors of the ordeal blaze $ 

He, while my fond ambition vainly tries 

With untaught steps to climb the arduous steep^ 

Where Fancy bade my young ideas rise, 
Nor in Oblivion's sluggish gulph to sleep ; 



80 POEMS BT 



Purged from my eyes the film, and gave the light, 
Aad tired my bosom with no common flime, 

High o'er the croud to wing my venturous flight, 
And reach the summit of immortal fame. 

Since Taste and Wit and Learning him attend, 
And his pure bosom all their charms adorn, 

Receive him as the youthful poet's fiiend 

Whose genius streaked with gold my rising menu 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROEINSON. 81 



ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM CUNNINGHAM. 

WRITTEN IN HIS TWELFTH YEAR. 

JlIARK ! midst the gloom of Lagan's winding shores, 

Yon mournful knell loud thrills the startled ear ; 
While, freed from life, a much loved spirit soars, 
And claims on earth the tribute of a tear. 

See ! dark December tears his robes of snow, 
Cold icy dew his hoary locks deforms ; 

And with th' expiring year departing slow 
Sighs midst the whirlwind of his rushing storms. 

In Fancy's wreath no gem resplendent shines, 
Her frantic hand the flowery garland rends. 

Funereal cypress round her brow she twines, 
And o'er her favourite's tomb in sorrow bends* 



'V 



82 POEMS BY 

ik -■■-■ 



In his pure mind the flowers of genius sprung, 
His artless breast with every virtue shone ; 

His rural lyre the sylvan Driads strung, 

And Truth inspired him from her heavenly throne* 

But now no more that vocal lyre can charm ! 

Cold is the hand that bade its chords resound ! 
And cold that heart so late with friendship warm, 

Deep in the bosom of the wintry ground I 

New fledged with radiant plumes of heavenly fire, 
His soul ascending views her native skies..,. 

Cease, cease my Muse ! from paths unknown retire, 
And from the prospect turn thy dazzled eyes. 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 83 



MLEGTON THE DEATH OF CLOTWORTHT, EARL OT 

MASSAREENE. 



WRITTEN IN HIS TWELFTH YEAR. 

1 HE midnight moon with liquid gold 

Illumed the glittering wave ; 
Slow, sullen o'er the waters tolled 

The summons to the grave* 

And now the sound on Night's dull ear 
With lessening murmurs died, 

Save where the river's sighs we hear 
As rolls his sable tide. 

High on her lonely tower, whose steep 

O'er-hung the flood below, 
Eliza mournful marked the deep 

And thus expressed her woe. 

L 



84 POEMS BY 



Thou gliding stream to sorrow dear. 
Emblem of Pleasure's reign ! 

Hear, from thy deepest caverns, hear 
A mourner sad complain ! 

When hapless Gaul her fate deplored 

In slavery's fetters bound, 
And tyrants waved oppression's sword 

And ruthless aimed the wound ; 

Wide o'er her realms with awful gloom 
Her massy dungeons spread, 

Heroic worth in opening bloom 
There pined, neglected, dead ; 

But Freedom saw, from Albion's land, 
The suffering victims yield ; 

Enraged she waved her dreaded brand 
And shook her radiant shield ; 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 85 

— . i ■--■■■ * 

And as the Goddess rapid flew 

Before her fled Despair, 
Oppression's fabric met her view 

And melted into air. 

That shield of terror what could harm ? 

What ward the lifted spear 
Whose point unnerved the sinewy arm. 

And froze the blood with fear I 

She smiles with fond maternal care 

And clasps her long lost son, 
Whose youth was blighted by despaii? 

Ere twenty years had run. 

Deep in the dungeon's horrid shade 

No ray of comfort gleamed, 
The Moon her radiance ne'er displayed, 

Nor Sol's effulgence beamed j 



86 POEMS BY 



Nor Friendship's smile nor Love's soft power 
Could break the impervious chain ; 

And dull and slow each passing hour 
But waked anew his pain. 

Full eighteen winters raged around. 
And eighteen summers bloomed ; 

Since fraud his youthful ardour bound 
To lasting misery doomed* 

44 While here the flame of battle roars 

44 By frantic Discord fired, 
u Go thou ! protect thy native shores, 

* By Liberty inspired !" 

She spoke....to Antrim's towers he came t 

With joy the plains resound ; 
He glowed, inspired with Freedom's flame. 

And kissed the hallowed ground. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 87 



At his approach the time-worn walls 

Their massy gates unfold, 
And hail their Lord through echoing hall* 

In ruined grandeur bold* 

With bounteous hand he cheered the swaira 
And reared each nodding tower, 

And cheerful Plenty smiled again 
And crowned the festal hour.. 

And Love and Peace with soft delight 
So charmed each passing day, 

That fleeting Time with rapid flight 
Passed unobserved away. 

But dark infernal Discord rose 

And Pleasure fled her sight* 
In every breast the fury throws 

Insatiate lust of fight. 



8£ POEMS BY 



And now approached the hostile train 
Enwrapped in sulphurous fire, 

Britannia's warriors yield the plain 
And slow, o'er-powered, retire. 

Then Massareene ! 'twas thou alone 

Retrieved the glorious day, 
And proud Rebellion crush'd, overthrown, 

In death terrific lay. 

But what availed his laureled fame 
To blunt the scythe of Death ? 

The word of Fate can aught reclaim 
Or stay the fleeting breath ? 

Nor can affection's rosy smile, 

Nor love's delightful sway, 
The gloomy tyrant's wrath beguile 

Whose mandate all obey. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 89 

— — .i — ^m* 



Then thou O stream ! beloved no more. 
Loud murmuring ever flow ; 

To groves and vales that deck thy shore 
In sorrow tell my woe. 



ON TEE MARCHIONESS OF DO NEG ALL'S RETURN TO 

BELFAST. 



WRITTEN IN HIS TWELFTH YEAR* 

-LATE throned on snow, the northern blast 
Fierce through the leafeless forest past 

And rigorous breathed around ; 
Stern Winter reared his freezing hand 
And glazed with ice the yellow sand 

And smote the withering ground. 

What now dispels the season's gloom 
And bids the fields reviving bloom 
With many a blushing flower ? 



-»' .. " - ' ■ ' ■ 

90 POEMS BY 



Whence do the sullen storms retire, 
And shady forests gay aspire 

And own the vernal power ? 

i 

5 Tis Donegall that bids the spring 
With lib'ral hand her treasures fling 

And lead her smiling train ; 
And see ! the gifts of Flora rise, 
Sweet offspring of the cloudless skies, 

To paint the enamelled plain. 

Though Time no variation own, 
Firm on his adamantine throne, 

The tyrant of the year ! 
Yet Beauty's smile his wrath o'er-powers, 
And, though around him winter lowers, 

His gloomy brow r can cheer. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 91 



DOLLY'S ANGER 9 
OR THE POETO-MAGIRA-MA.CHIA. 

WRITTEN IN HIS TWELFTH YEAR* 

JV1 Y angry lyre, Megsera, string ! 

In notes Tartarean, battle sing : 

Instead Qf tears for Beauty's woe f 

Let Rancour burn, let Discord glow. 

Though erst my Muse has mourned with Dolly, 

My strains now sing her thoughtless folly, 

Her fury causing wild uproar, 

Her madness and her thirst of gore, 

Her pots and kettles, pans and plates, 

And pokers breaking brittle pates ; 

How falling dishes crashing sound, 

And broken china strews the ground? 

M 



92 POEMS BY 



These in their fall full oft have rung 
A chorus to her wrangling tongue, 
Which- might for noise and constant rattle 
Be Discord's trumpet to a battle. 

Once on a time, when all were quiet, 
And mute the voice of brawl and riot, 
While Peace was sitting by the fire 
Then Dolly 'gan with furious ire ; 
(But know the cause of this rough storm, 
Doll cast her eye with rage deform, 
On where Dan Poet seized the cake 1 
Her hands with nicest care did bake :) 
lc Thief ! drop that cake" the vixen cried, 
With equal rage the Bard replied, 
" Think not I'll such a prize resign, 
<l For know, proud shrew ! the cake is mine ; 
u For Bards of old, and 'tis befitting 
*• The Muses' sons, still loved good eating : 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 93 

<c Though much of Helicon's pure stream 

u They fondly sing and madly dream, 

u This cake such feasts excels as far, 

4C As the bright sun the twinkling star ; 

<fc So while the laurel crowns my head, 

u While ovens are with fuel red, 

44 So long I'd fight for cake, so long on cake be fed. 

Now to its height her fury rose, 
So with the spark the tinder glows, 
She threw the poker at his head 
And deemed that blow would stretch him dead 5 
But turned by Phoebus' guardian care 
The weapon spent its force in air. 

The Poet now with choler swelled 
Fierce dealt a blow and Dolly yelled j 
Yet though tremendous was the shock 
She stood like some high towering rock y 



94 r-OF.MS BY 



-1 ~TT » I 



Then seized the tongs and at him flew, 

No blood the gaping forceps drew ; 
Cautious he marked her vengeful aina 
And shunned the weapon as it came. 

Again she waved her threatening brand, 
But Fate had armed his vigorous hand.... 
His broad fire-shovel whirled around 
Pierced her arms brawn with maddening wound. 
As when in fire Typhoeus roars 
And iEtoa shakes Sicilia's shores, 
Thus bellowed Doll.. ..the kitchen sounded 
And trenchers on the dresser bounded ; 
Then prone she fell ; the chimney shook ; 
The pictures stared with haggered look ; 
The lay-man from his center sprung, 
The house with Ajax' howlings rung : 
He thought, that freed from limbo's pale 
Old Satan came with horns and tail, 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 95 



And with loud diabolic yell 
Called to her aid the powers of hell. 

E'en then her useless blade she threw 
Which feebly loitered as it flew ; 
The glancing point his fingers tare, 
And stained his hand with crimson gore. 
Thus some tall nettle in the fields 
Sinks by the scythe the mower wields, 
And though expiring on the plains 
Darts the sharp sting and wounds his veins^ 

The victor Bard tremendous frowned 
And furious aimed a mortal wound ; 
But Phoebus, who concealed had stood 
And viewed the scene of strife and blood, 
Stayed his rash hand....thus loudly crying, 
" See there thy foe before thee lying ; 



96 



POEMS BY 



u Let not Revenge my votary stain, 
* Bat o'er thy mind let Mercy reign ; 
" Beauty should be the Poet's care, 
44 Still should his numbers guard the fahv 
" Though passion oft her charms misuses 
u Doll loves the Poet and the muses*" 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 97 



THE GAXLAND OF MAYi 
ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY, 

WRITTEN IN HIS THIRTEENTH YEAR. 

JN OW Spring benignant sheds her power 
Around the golden studded green, 

And leads the Muses from their bower 
To twine the wreath for May's fair queen. 

Now sounds the sweet Parnassian lyre, 
Bright naming o'er its quivering strings 

The Genius of poetic fire 

Creative influence round him flings. 

Love weaves the crown with flowerets gay 
To deck the fairest of the train, 

Who rule the mind with gentle sway 
And bind it in their silken chain. 



l llL ,, — r , — - — ^ — >— 

98 POEMS BY 



Can Science claim the wished for prize 
Unless with Beauty's smiles combined ? 

And Beauty's self but vainly tries 
Without th' attractions of the mind : 

Lo, she whom Beauty's loveliest charms surround, 
With every mental grace, the Queen of May is crowned! 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 99 



VERSES SUGGESTED BY THE RECOLLECTION 

OF MAT, 1804. 



WRITTEN IN HIS THIRTEENTH YEAR. 

Dissolving winter's icy chains 

The Sun unbinds the frozen ground, 
Verdure adorns the blooming plains 

And Spring's gay children smile around : 
Kind Maia flings her gifts with liberal hand, 

And flowerets gem the land ; 
The joyous songsters of the grove 
Hail her delightful sway with notes of love ; 
Through flowery meads the sportive lambkins stray ^ 
And o'er the grassy turf their harmless gambols play. 

Love, crowned with Maia's blooming flower, 

Smiles jocund from his rosy throne, 

Enlivened by his genial power 

His sway the works of nature own* 
N 



100 POEMS BY 



A ray divine of Heaven's eternal spring 

The balmy zephyrs bring ; 
The terrors of the lonely wood 
Stretched at his feet forget their thirst of blood ; 
His wonderous spell their sanguine fury binds, 
And soothes their savage breasts, and charms to peace 
their minds. 



Mirth and Sport attend his tram, 

And rosy Health he guides along 
Light springing o'er the dewy plain 
To hail the sky-lark's matin song : 
. They lead the sportive dance in mazy rounds, 
While sweet the voice of music sounds, 
And nature tunes the vocal lyre 
Soft varying every strain to fond desire : 
While Pleasure's magic smiles enchant the green, 
And dazzling Beauty reigns, the universal queen, 



THOMAS ROMNET ROBINSON. 101 



But love in vain her steps attends, 

And smiling Pleasure round her flies ? 
While o'er yon turf sad Pity bends 

Where low her youthful Poet lies : 
For now no more his gay melodious lyre 

The powers of harmony inspire ! 
And still when Maia cheers the plains 
For him the Bard shall mourn in sorrowing strains^ 
And, while slow murmuring Lagan pours his wave, . 
Shall bid the laurel bloom around his hallowed grave. 



J DDF ESS SPOKEN BY THE TOUNO PHENOMENON, 

ON HER INTRODUCTION TO THE IRISH STAGE. 

Mat 22, 1805. 

WRITTEN IN HIS THIRTEENTH YEAR. 

MORE news from Lilliput !....yes ? more I own, 
Though critics fired with jealous anger frown..* 



102 POEMS BY 



What though the indignant voice of age exclaim, 
And proudly scorn my young attempts at fame ; 
And, while my longing eyes your smiles pursue, 
Think I had better learn to knit and sew ; 
Or, while my prattle your attention draws, 
A rod were better far than your applause ! 

Shall infant genius then, in earliest bloom, 
Expire by your irrevocable doom ? 
No ! let the precious bud expanding smile, 
And shed its influence o'er this favoured isle ; 
Here let it bloom once more, by Heaven's command, 
More precious than Colconda's golden sand ; 
And when the tragic scene unfolds its charms 
And Randolph's sorrow every breast alarms, 
As mothers feel, as sisters fondly dear, 
As brothers, hail your infant sister here : 
And let not prejudice despotic reign, 
Or bind your senses in his rigorous chain ; 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 103 

■ : . ,, . -, ■■,.., - -'..'•- ■^-■■? 



But let proud Judgment Fancy's spells obey, 
And midst her wilds enthusiastic stray ; 
Nor bind the wanderer with a stern command, 
But weigh young merit with a parent's hand. 
Yours is the power to bid the infant mind 
Soar with a flight resistless, unconfiaed ; 
Unless your kind applause our bosoms warms, 
Mute is the Poet's strain, the Muse resigns her charms \ 
For I will tell you, if you needs must know it, 
That I am prompted by a youthful Poet. 



WRITTEN IN A TEMPLE IX MONTALTO DEMESNE. 
WRITTEN IN HIS THIRTEENTH YEAR. 

JN YMPH of this fane ! to me thy influence bring 
And o'er my soul thy inspiration fling ; 
Diffuse around a holy calm serene 
And stiil my passious midst this magic scene ; 



104 POEMS HT 



Freed from tumultuous cares and pride's control. 

Shut from the busy world my peaceful soul ; 

Let these deep glooms to meditation given 

Fill my aspiring heart with hopes of Heaven; 

Raised by Religion let my ardent mind 

Ascending to the skies leave earth's vain joys behind* 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 105 



ON THE XUINED MONUMENT OF A D0G % CALLED 

«■ fidelle;* in montalto demesne. 



WRITTEN IN HIS THIRTEENTH YEAR. 

JVlIDST these neglected trees with moss o'er-grown, 
Why scarce appears that monumental stone ? 
See ! from its base, by rudest hands uptorn, 
In shattered fragments lies the sculptured urn ! 
Those laurels, once bedecked with chearful bloom. 
Now shade the ruins with a deathlike gloom : 
Here in the dusk the widowed dove complains, 
And soothing echo still prolongs the strains ; 
Here pensive Melancholy loves to dwell, 
And casts o'er all the scene her pleasing spelL 

Alas Fidelle ! could not compassion save 
From scorn the relics of thy injured grave? 
Will no kind hand thy mouldering urn uprear, 
No pitying eye bedew it with a tear ? 



106 POEMS BY 



Shall dull oblivion bid thy memory die, 
And humble merit thus forgotten lie ? 
No, let an infant Poet weep thy fate, 
And with his song thy marble consecrate : 
What though the scoffing world his tears deride 
His verse shall give thee what thy tomb denied* 



a^g 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 107 



TO AN ENGLISH LADT, ON HER VISITING IRELAND, 
IN JUNE 1805. 

WRITTEN IN HIS THIRTEENTH YEAR. 

W HEN her all-conquering sword Britannia waves 
And the whole power of hostile Europe braves, 
The subject deep beneath her anger groans, 
And distant monarchs tremble on their thrones ; 
Her sinewy arm victorious in the field 
The struggling enemy compels to yield, 
And, gainst the foe her bursting thunder hurled 
Flies the loud terror of a prostrate world. 
Yet ne'er her power Ierne's spirit broke 
Tamely to bear submission's galling yoke; 
Oft unrestrained their nicest feuds returned 
And rankling hate with rage destructive burned j 
Celestial Peace at length displays her charms, 

And Union clasps them in maternal arms. , 

O 



108 FOEM5 BY 



But if while war's infernal flames expire 
"Within its ashes lurk some hidden fire ; 
Should some fell power the smotherea spark increase, 
And Discord linger in the lap of Peace ; 
Then England ! what thy sons in arms renowned 
In many a fight with deathless glory crowned 
Failed to effect, O let thy daughters gain, 
And bind our friendship with the firmest chain. 

Send them, like B adorned with every charm 

To soothe our passions and our bosoms warm ; 

Be they, like her, in awful virtue drest, 

And all the graces of the female breast ; 

Be they, like her, in whom shine forth combined 

The faultless person and the spotless mind ; 

Then shall our hearts thy willing slaves remain, 

Bound not by fragile power, but love's eternal chain. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. iU9 

■ ■ ■ — - — ■ ■ . ...,■_■ — —-_ ■■- -- « •-• 



TO WILLIAM HiTLET, ES% 
ON READING « HIS TRIUMPH OF MUSIC* 

WRITTEN IN HIS TWELFTH YEAR* 

JN O more in fair Aonia's bowers 

Th' iEmathian nymphs inspire the strain, 

Where steep Parnassus proudly towers, 
Or Pindus shades Thessalia's plain* 

For War's loud clang incessant roared, 
In air his gore-stained banner flew $ 

Dark Superstition waved the sword 

Which frantic Zeal and Madness drew. 

Th' infernal fiend with baneful breath 
Profaned their altar's sacred fire, 

And dark, concealed midst clouds of death 
Untuned the strings and broke the lyre. 



110 TOEMS BT 



In Albion smile the maids divine, 
No care disturbs, no fear alarms ; 

Round Hayley's brow the wreath they twine, 
The wreath that blooms with all their charms. 

And hark ! the heaven-taught lyre resounds.... 

Love's powerful voice awakes the strings ; 
From echoing hil s the song rebounds, 

With love the exulting valley rings. 

The magic notes reveal the scene 
Where proud Venetians turrets rise, 

Or Milan's plains with forests green, 
To whose dark umbrage Beauty flies. 

They paint the cloister's hallowed gloom 
Where grim the dark assassins frowned ; 

Truth's heavenly beams their minds illume, 
They dash their poignards to the ground. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. HI 



3E3 



While fair Venusia's soothing strains 
Rule o'er the mind with soft control ; 

And, while Manfredi sad complains, 
Calm the dark tempest of his soul ; 

Or where triumphant virtue towers, 
While with revenge Donado glows, 

Repentance veils his guilty hours 
And lulls his passions in repose : 

As when dark vapours sp 1 ead around, 
When every blast his fury stills, 

And wreaths of mist the vale surround, 
Dim gathering o'er the distant hills ; 

If then the sun with sudden light, 
The shadowy veil of clouds divide, 

The opening vallies charm the sight, 
And mountains rise in awful pride. 



112 POEMS BY 



While Music bids Fame's clarion swell, 
In thought I fly to Eartham's bowers ; 

Hear Truth's loud voice divinely tell, 
How Virtue's light dark guilt o'erpowers. 

I hail the Bard, I bless the Man 

Whose lyre with heavenly spirit glows, 

In sounds divine unfolds the plan 

That heals the source of human woes* 

With thee I range where classic bowers 
From Grecian taste unfading spring ; 

Or fair Italia's blushing flowers 

Round the gay scene their odours fling. 

While sounds the deep Mseonian shell, 
Bright burnished armour flames around, 

Scamanders waves with slaughter swell, 
Death stalks triumphant o'er the ground -, 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 113 



Or Maro sings in rural strains, 

How ripening harvests gild the field, 

Or waving forests crown the plains, 
Or bees their dewy nectar yield. 

With thee I pierce the shadowy gloom, 
Which time o'er Grecian painting threw ; 

Where bright, Apelles' colours bloom, 
Or where sublime Panaeus drew i 

Or sculpture charms the wondering eye, 
And warms with life the senseless stone; 

As Phidias bids the lightning fly. 
By angry Jove vindictive thrown. 

Enraptured with the strains divine 
I feel the heavenly ardour grow ; 

And dare with infant hands to twine 
Young rases round thy laurelled brow* 



114 POEMS BY 



And, if his sorrows Time should bring. 
And 'gainst thy joys insatiate rage ; 

Thy harp shall blunt affliction's sting, 
My fond affection cheer thy age* 



s\m\\yr 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 115 



A PARAPHRASE ON THE TABLET OF CEBES. 

WRITTEN IN HIS TWELFTH YEAR. 

YV HERE o'er Bceotia Thebes extends her reign, 
Chance led our wandering steps to Saturn's fane, 
Where precious gems with ductile gold combine, 
And votive gifts bespangle all the shrine : 
But chief a picture charms the admiring view 
Which Fancy, chastened by instruction, drew ; 
She bade the blended colours brighter glow, 
And from the pencil sacred precepts flow. 
No city had the artist there displayed, 
With lofty walls and stately towers arrayed $ 
No hostile bands were there contending seen, 
Staining with mutual wounds the marshalled green 5 
Nor did the youth with emulation claim, 

Olympian garlands in the festive game : 

P 



116 POEMS BY 



A wall immense his heavenly art had drawn 
Whose circling sweep enclosed a mimic lawn ; 
An eager crowd, with anxious haste surround 
Its solid gates with massy junctures bound ; 
A reverend form, superior, moves along, 
Whose mien august o'er-awes the pressing throng ; 
Persuasive wisdom seems his tongue to inspire 
And bid the crowd his honied words admire. 

Perplexed we stood, revolving, nor could find 
What by the mystic picture was designed ; 
When one, whose wisdom was by time matured, 
And long to many a change of life inured, 
Approaching nigh the holy silence broke. 
And thus addressed us listening as he spoke,... 

" Nor did Bceotia's sons uprear this fane, 
u Or teach of sacred rites the solemn train ; 
11 No native hung this hallowed picture high 
11 And bade its tints the lapse of years defy ; 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 117 



" A stranger he, foredoomed to wander far 

" By the dire influence of his natal star : 

" Oft have I heard his wisdom, and admired 

" His vigorous mind, though young, with science fired $ 

u Versed in the precepts of the Samian sage 

** The pride and glory of the Grecian age ; 

6C Bright o'er his youth auspicious genius smiled, 

u And Virtue hailed him as her favourite child." 

Eager we spoke.../ 4 O if no toil detain, 
" The precepts of this moral page explain." 

" A danger"....mild he answered, " there appears, 
" Receive the caution with attentive ears : 
" If, when your eyes these mystic forms descry 
44 Deep in your breasts the fixt impressions lie, 
" O'er chains of ignorance your minds shall soar 
u And spurn the tyrant whom you served before : 
" But if in vain the fateful lines you view, 
** Nor learn the secrets which the pencil drew, 



118 FOEMS BY 



■ Then in his snares your judgment Error binds, 

M And all life's bliss is given to the winds. 

u As when aloft upon th' Ismenian height 

" The monster Sphinx threw round her wary sight ; 

c; Fierce was her mien, her eyes with fury blazed j 

" Aloft in air her dragon wings were raised j 

il A lion's savage form her body bore, 

u And in her face a virgin's smiles she wore ; 

u Then, if the traveller met her baleful view 

44 Swift through the air on rapid wings she flew ; 

u If he in vain the dark enigma tried, 

* The wretch beneath the monster's fury died ; 
u Her ravenous fangs his quivering entrails tore, 

* And her black jaws were tinged with human gore.' y 

Anxious, we cried.. *2* O heavens ! how great desire 
14 Of this important truth your words inspire ! 
<k Not more her wish a mother e'er expressed 
•* To cla.p her first-born infant to her breast ; 



■--- • -- ■ ... ■■•■--asg , 

THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 119 



u Or, crowned with glory in the battle won, 
11 Safe, in her arms to fold her darling son.'* 

Pleased he replied..." Observe that pictured train, 
** Your happiness or woe its groups contain. 
* This ample wall, of hu n^n life the bound, 
<c The regions of eternity surround ; 
u These, spacious realms to mortal eyes unknown* 
44 That crowned with lofty towers, an ample zonc^ 
€i Crowds to the gate innumerable throng 
" By fate's resistless mandate led along ; 
" Superiour o r er the rest that sage behold 
"In light's warm magic prominently bold, 
<c Genius his name.,. .the sire of every art, 
" Parent of knowledge in the human heart, 
u Through life's tumultuous scenes he bears the 

sway, 
tc And opes of happiness the mystic way. 



120 POEMS BY 



44 High on yon throne, of ever-changing mien, 
44 Arrayed in beauty's charms, Deceit is seen ; 
44 Still fair to view, she holds a goblet crowned 
44 With magic juice collected from the ground; 
44 This each must drain ; it blinds the searching eye, 
44 Till round their heads the fumes of error fly. 
44 Hence the vain schemes by erring man pursued, 
44 In false opinion's mirror darkly viewed ; 
44 By whose delusive light they toil in vain 
44 Through pleasure's flowery vales, or thorny wilds 

of pain. 
44 See that fair group arrayed in beauty's pride ! 
44 The Passions these.... Intemperance is their guide ; 
44 Fair are her looks, her smiles allure the soul 
44 Blind with the draught of error's dizzy bowl ; 
44 A polished mask conceals her hideous face, 
44 Adorned with borrowed charms and winning grace. 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 121 



w All starred with gems her costly garments blaze, 

44 Their bright reflection dims Apollo's rays. 

44 Before, inwrought in gold, pleased Momus smiles^ 

iC And jocund Wit prepares his sportive wiles ; 

" Behind how changed ! what different scenes ap- 



pear ! 
" There Discord's snakes fraternal bosoms tear ; 
44 There Murder waves on high his gory brand f 
44 And sad Contrition rears her icy hand, 
44 She secret lurks behind th' expanded gates 
44 And, close concealed^ th' unwary traveller waits. 
44 But see, where Fortune rules th' extended plain 
And, with her smiles, invites the thoughtless train $ 
High on her rapid wheel the Godness stands 
44 And flings her treasures with imprudent hands : 
44 The rapid wheel impelled by magic force 
44 Revolves impetuous in its ceaseless course : 



it 



u 



122 POEMS BY 



" The eager crowd to seize her gifts engage, 
44 And friend meets friend with undistinguished 

rage. 
i4 This, while secure he views the golden prize, 
fl Laments the treasures ravished from his eyes ; 
44 That, while around Despair's black sway prevails 
44 Sees Joy returning rear the adverse scales. 

41 But when some favourite gains the shining spoil, 
44 The gay reward of all his anxious toil, 

Intemperance sudden from her ambush springs 
44 And to her sister fiends the victim brings : 

Mad with desire he quaffs their poisoned bowl f 
44 And yields to guilty pleasures all his soul. 

44 At length the wasteful joys his wealth consume 
* 4 And o'er his days impends a deepening gloom, 
44 New, far exiled, with Torture he must dwell 

Who rules despotic in that mournful cell." 



•u 



44 



41 \\7\ 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON, 



With pity touched, I turned my wistful eye 
Upon the sage who framed this grave reply.,,. 

" Where that red furnace flames with ominous glare, 
<c And v angry, flashes on the murky air, 
44 There Torture frowns...*her scorpion scourge she 



waves, 



4i And freezing terror chills her abject slaves ; 
" There clanking chains the suffering victims bind 
" And spiky wheels their mangled bodies grind* 
" There see distracted Grief with frenzy glow, 
u Or sink in silent agony of woe ; 
" Corroding cares like vultures drink: her blood, 
** Her heart exhausting of its vital flood. 
" There dull Despair on earth reclines his head, 
" Sunk are his cheeks, his hollow eyes are dead ; 
ic His matted locks disordered hang unbound, 
** And loathsome rags his meagre frame surround. 



124 POEMS BY 



14 There angry Conscience waves a fiery brand 
44 And goads the wretches with relentless hand ; 
" Stern foe to daring vice ! her frown severe 
M O'er-powers the guilty mind with secret fear. 

11 Midst the dread torments of this gloomy cell, 
44 In ceaseless anguish must the victims dwell, 
44 Till grave Repentance comes, sedately slow, 
44 With aid medicinal to heal their woe : 
" Her heavenly voice directs the sufferer's feet, 
M And shews the path towards Virtue's calm retreat :" 

I then inquired.... 4 4 what powers malignant reign 
44 Where those dark walls inclose a barren plain ?" 

Then he.... 44 There useless Learning holds her sway, 
44 Her erring voice deluded minds obey : 
44 Before the gate in tinsel pomp she stands, 
44 And greets the passing crowd with out-stretched 
hands ; 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON* 12. 



<c With charms deceitful draws them from the road 

"Which toilsome leads to Science' true abode. 

" Here false Opinions polished mirrors bear, 

" Where blackest guilt is seen v as virtue fair. 

cc With them Intemperance holds a flowery chain 

• ; Whose links scarce-felt confine the unweary train ; 

* 4 With smiles insidious and enticing art, 

M Pleasing though dangerous, she ensnares the heart t 

" Allured by her behold that thoughtless throng 

•' Who late to Science dear, attuned the song f 

" Who touched the lyre and bade the vocal string 

" O'er erring minds the beams of knowledge fling, 

fl How from bright virtue by intemperance led, 

" Unknown, despised, they pine, to glory dead ; 

u Their blooming honours blighted all around, 

*• And Hope's gay blossoms withering on the groundr 

u See that grave group, in solemn error proud, 
** Who frown contemptuous on th' unlettered crowd! 



126 POEMS BY 



" These logic's maze in devious walks contains, 

" Its tangled gloom truth's piercing light restrains- 

" Oft in its paths with fruitless toil they try 

" To prove Jove's towering bird a timid fly j 

" Or vainly building on this air-built plan, 

41 Give the dull ass the heaven-born powers of man t 

" Thus reason's strength to sophistry confined 

" Tends but to lessen and debase the mind. 

" But Rhetoric's influence greater throngs commands,. 

ik Arrayed in robes of seeming Peace she stands ; 

" Her powerful voice embattled ranks can charm, 

a Impel the coward, and the brave disarm, 

" Bid peaceful realms a martial ardour feel, 

u And conquering armies drop the uplifted steel. 

44 See, rich with art, her sculptured rostrum shine f 

M Where forms, expressive of her power, combine ; 

" Its fourfold sides four hideous phantoms bear..,. 

" First dire Revenge appears with gore-stained hair j 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 12T 



14 His scowling eye, and rage that spurns control 

41 Mark the fell purpose of his gloomy soul. 

* Then Murder stalks, with recent slaughter red^ 

44 And starts, affrighted at his echoing tread, 

44 Next furious Anarchy, fair Freedom's foe, 

44 Bids democratic flames destructive glow# 

44 Last see proud Tyranny in pomp appear ! 

44 Her arm, with threatening aim, uplifts a spear j 

44 Prest by her sway the conquered nations groan, 

14 And bend reluctant at her haughty throne." 

While thus the picture's mystic forms he told, 
Each breathing life from nature's richest mould, 
I spoke.... 44 where has true Science placed her seat 
44 Of peace and happiness the calm retreat ? 
44 Is it where yon rich plains with foliage green 
44 Rejoice, and light unclouded chears the scene ? 
44 Or where those towers with golden radiance glow, 
44 Whose bright reflection gilds the vale below t n 



128 POEMS BY 



Then he...." Behold that hill that towers on high, 
44 Around whose head dim wreaths of vapour fly • 
44 Behold those rocks that ward the rushing storm, 
u Whose mouldering brow perpetual showers deform \ 
u See how they nod and seem to threat the vale ; 
44 Impetuous courage at the sight turns pale ! 
44 High on the top two lovely sisters stand, 
44 The towering hill obeys their high command. 
u This, meek-eyed Patience, heaven-descended maid ? 
44 That, dauntless Fortitude, in steel arrayed : 
44 These cheer the stranger, faint with deep dismay,* 
44 And safely guide him up the dangerous way ; 
44 For, all undazzled by Opinion's glass, 
44 Who from her slippery roads to Science pass, 
44 Up the rough steep miht wind their toilsome road 
44 Which leads to Virtue and her blest abode. 
44 With them sweet smiling Hope the sufferers cheers, 
44 Allays their sorrows and dispels their fears, 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 129 



" Decribes the gifts which truth benignant showers 

" In the bright precincts of her golden towers. 

" Hope o'er the bellowing deep can fearless bound, 

u And Alpine mountains level with the ground, 

u With rapid course round earth's vast ball can spring, 

" Or pierce the realms of space with daring wing ; 

H And when through life misfortune's gloom is rolled, 

u Can tinge her iron rod with heaven's setherial 

gold. 
u The summit gained, what wonders meet their sight 
u And thrill their senses with a keen delight ! 
u See ! how the sun with bright resplendence beams 
i u And with his glancing rays the marble gleams > 
14 See ! lengthening walls the sacred plains surround, 
" And shine, with adamantine turrets crowned ; 
u See ! with what sweep the massy portal bends, 
11 The ringing valve its brazen folds extends : 



130 POEMS BY 



i« "V. 



(. 



44 There Science sits, bv every passion feared, 
44 The queen of life, by gods and men revered. 
Ci No foul Intemperance there her slaves beguiles, 
<c Xor false Opinion spreads her slippery wiles, 
u No victim there is vext by fears or cares, 
So rage disturbs, no jarring anger tears. 
Her powerful cup from Folly clears the soul, 
u Freed from Deceit and Error's blind controuL 
M A deep fixt column high her throne sustains, 
11 Firm as the word of fate its base remains. 
<4 Supremely fair two virgins grace her side, 
M Her daughter each in strong affection tied : 
44 This truth, whose robes with heavenly splendour 

shine ; 
4; That, sweet Persuasion, graced with words divine. 
44 Then, through the arch, refulgent towers are seen, 
44 And groves enameled with unfading green; 



THOMAS ROMXEY ROBINSON. 131 



u Beaming in air the polished fabric shines 

u Bright with the treasures of Maeonian mines 5 

" The ruddy gold a dazzling glory spreads, 

44 A trembling gleam the paler silver sheds, 

u Flashing in sparkling wreaths the diamonds stand..:* 

" All own the work of an immortal hand. 

11 With graceful form enrobed in purest white, 
" And beauty beaming with celestial light, 
44 Within sits Happiness.. ..her chosen train 
4t Filled with exulting joy confess her reign : 
u Gay blooming chaplets o'er her tresses rise 
" And breathe their balmy odours through the skies, 

" Obedient to her will, a lovely band, 

u Around her throne th' attending Virtues stand. 

u See Justice there invert her rigorous sword, 

" And laureled Honour smile, by all adored ; 

u See Friendship's bands unite discordant hearts, 

u And lenient Pity heal keen sorrow's smarts ; 

R 



132 POEMS BY 



<c See Prudence watchful 'gainst the ill designed, 
4C And Candour ope the secrets of her mind. 

" With ceaseless watch these guard the festive hall, 
M And to its joys the way-worn traveller call : 
iL Firm on his brow a blooming wreath they bind, 
u Late by their queen with flowers immortal twined ; 
t; From it on swiftest wing the passions fly, 
cc And all his sorrow, pain and terror die. 
" Hushed all his inward storms, with soul serene, 
" He views the perils of the dangerous scene, 
" Sheds the mild pitying tear, and mourns the throng 
14 Who led in Error's mazes rush along, 

" O happy he ! who spurns the dread control 
" Of all the scorpion passions of the soul ; 
" What tho' his robes no borrowed splendour knows, 
" Nor downy couches court his soft repose ; 
u What though no flattering throngs around him wait, 
" The silken pageantry of idle state j 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 



44 Still Wisdom's heavenly voice instruction pours 
44 And rich Content her choicest blessings showers : 
44 Loud though around his head dread thunders roll, 
44 And red-winged lightnings rend th' affrighted pole, 
44 E'en though the solid world were wrapt in fire 
u And trembling Nature shuddered to expire, 
44 Though Death rode horrid on each fiery wave, 
44 Still would his heart be firm, his soul securely 
brave. 
41 Wisely, like him, my friends, employ each hour, 
44 Give all your soul to Virtue's heavenly power. 
44 Shun fierce Intemperance and her abject hand : 
44 Nor yield your minds to Fortune's vain command ; 
4< Changeful, inconstant still, around she flies, 
44 To this she gives, to that her gifts denies ; 
44 No merit guides her choice, nor virtues gain, 
44 Prest by misfortune they lament in vain* 



134 POEMS BY 



u 



U 



44 Her varying mind e'en favourites oft bemoan, 
" And pine in want unpitied and aicne : 
u While they, whom late the fickle goddess scorned, 
" Now proudly stalk in borrowed plumes adorned. 
From her caprice such strange confusion springs^ 

Oft kings are beggars.. ..and oft beggars kings. 

" But you, if Fortune give the glittering spoil, 
4i No longer in the busy tumult toil ; 
" Scorn false Opinion's voice. ...that faithful road 
" Will guide your steps to Science' blest abode ; 
" Drink her pure cup, its power shall cleanse your 

mind, 
" And Error's chains no more your senses bind ; 
" Blest happiness shall end your mortal cares.... 

" Such are the precepts which this picture bears."' 




THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON, 135 



TO THE REV. BR. BRUCE, 

ON PRESENTING HIM WITH A COPY OF THE PARAPHRASE 

OF CEBES. 

WRITTEN IN HIS THIRTEENTH YEAR. 

X RIEND of young Genius ! say wilt thou refuse 

The daring offering of a youthful muse ? 
Of heavenly virtue and of truth she sings, 
And to thy name the gift appropriate brings ! 
May she in trembling doubt present her lays 
And fondly hope that dear reward...,thy praise ? 

Bold was my task t' explore the mystic page 
Rich with the science of the Grecian sage, 
With infant hand the various groups to trace 
And dress each antique form in modern grace ; 
But bolder still I'd dare thy merits sing, 
And mount aspiring on a stronger wing* 



136 POEMS BY 



With fond delight my memory joys to trace 
The varied pleasures of that sacred place, 
Where o'er my soul thy voice instruction poured 
And with the precious gems of science stored, 
Inspired my heart with generous thirst of fame, 
And roused the sparks of genius to a flame. 

To thee the pleasing anxious task's assigned 
To form by just degrees the youthful mind j 
To ope the valued hoards of classic lore, 
Young taste investing with the golden store \ 
To clip exuberant Fancy's soaring wing, 
And from imprudence bid experience spring ; 
To quell the passions with commanding sway, 
And not destroy but teach them to obey. 
Lo ! selfishness by thee to prudence turned 
And generous courage glow where anger burned, 
See weep'ng Pity mercy's sceptre wield 
And Fear oppose to danger caution's shield : 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 137 



So from envenomed herbs, replete with death, 
Poisoning th' infecte d air with noxious breath, 
The chymic sage, well skilled in Nature's laws, 
The healing balm and cordial medicine draws. 

Oft have I marked a youth by sloth enchained, 
O'er whom dark ignorance despotic reigned, 
Feel, by thy guardian care the genial ray 
Beam o'er his sightless mind the living day, 
Expand his rising powers to hail the light, 
And shine in virtue fair, in knowledge bright. 
So when a ponderous mass of marble stands 
Assuming gradual life from Sculpture's hands, 
New beauties meet the wcndering artist's eyes 
Till the fair form in finished charms arise, 
In perfect symmetry, a queen of love ; 
Or frowning awful, a majestic Jove. 

With fond affection's voice I greet the band 
To virtue moulded by thy plastic hand, 



138 FCEMS BY 



Arrayed in all the lovely charms of youth, 
Gay innocence, and pure instinctive truth, 
The conscious worth that sparkles on the face, 
The modest blush that heightens every grace, 
44 Beloved companions ! to my heart how dear ! 
44 That voice, those precepts may we still revere, 
44 Others let Pleasure's winning charms delight, 
44 Ours be the bliss supreme of acting right." 
O ! could the feeling of this struggling heart 
A warm poetic energy impart, 
Could glowing gratitude my mind inspire 
With the bold fury of a Homer's fire ; 
Then my rapt soul with equal vigour fraught, 
The expressive image, and the ardent thought, 
Should with thy virtues deck each nervous line f 
And to eternity thy praise consign.,.. 
The man of God describe, to whom are given 
The powers that mark the embassador of Heaven 



THOMAS ROMNEY ROBINSON. 139 

The graceful eloquence whose soothing art 
Heals the sharp anguish of the wounded heart ; 
Or fires, with truth's resistless thunder armed, 
The sceptic's breast with strange sensations 

warmed ; 
The beams of piety, that brightly shed 
Play, like a glory round the sainted head. 

But ah ! how powerless all the aid of song 
To speak thy merits or thy praise prolong ! 
Not e'en the wild enthusiastic glow 
Can a just tribute to thy worth bestow ; 
What then avail the artless numbers sung 
By the soft lispings of an infant tongue ! 
No powers mature my feeble voice inspire, 
And vainly sounds my ineffectual lyre. 

Spurning the meaner aid of earthly fame, 

A nobler recompence thy worth shall claim ; 

s 



140 POEMS. 



Led by the virtues from this transient scene, 
Mild Charity, firm Faith, and Hope serene, 
To Heaven the glorious region of the blest, 
When Earth's vain dreams are o'er, her children sunk 
to rest. 




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